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widow-maximov · 3 years

Note

Hello, I would like to request a wandanat x reader where reader is on a mission with Pietro (he is alive in this story) and something goes wrong, causing reader to get stuck under rumble or something like that. Wandanat are informed and they rush to the scene, all angsty 'you can't die blah blah and the manage to free reader but whether they live or die is up to you. Thank you, and if you cant write this thats fine

Honestly yes, this whole idea is just good... hehe

Last breath

Pairing: Natasha x Wanda x Reader

Warning: Language, fluff, angst :3

Summary: Missions with your best friend always end in success but what if one fails, how will your girlfriends react?

Word count: 3k

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

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To those who experienced death always say life is precious which they aren't wrong, you always lived by the moment until that one mission..

But let's side track a little bit..

You always were a thrill seeker, doing things like sky diving, bungee jumping and even cage diving with sharks so joining Shield wasn't surprising at all, you went out on all missions.

Which was something the Avengers noticed along with your dedication to be the best, they took you in and you fit in like a glove. Even though you were quite adventurous, your personality was the opposite.

You were shy whenever you were new but as soon as you got used to your surroundings, you was able to express yourself more to which is why Natasha and Wanda took interest in you.

You were loved by most of the team, the rest were natural towards you but there was one person on the team who adored you; Pietro Maximoff, the racer, the other twin is what everyone referred to him but he was your best friend.

You would consider him as brother but the fact that you were interested in his sister would be slightly weird. He always encouraged you to talk to Wanda but it wasn't just Wanda that you liked, when he found out the constant bullying started.

You wouldn't mind until the two redheads are around and he makes a joke that you can understand but somehow you'll be convinced that they understand and it will be awkward.

But this time you were going to ask them out even if you had no idea if they felt the same, you took a deep breath as anxiety slowly creepy up, you never was nervous so this says something.

As soon as the pair walked in, you looked over at Pietro to which he instantly put his hands up in defeat with a innocent smile across his lips.

You mouthed "I'm watching you" to him which caused him to laugh slightly, he nodded and continued to make his sandwich as he observed you.

You walked up to them with a nervous smile, Wanda returned the smile whilst Natasha observed you as if she was reading through you "Wanda Natasha heyy"

Natasha couldn't hold back a smile "Hello Y/n, is everything okay?"

"Is my brother annoying you?" Wanda questioned right after Natasha.

You nervously laughed "Oh no, he is being bearable today and yes everything is okay"

You rubbed the back of your neck "I came over here because I wanted to ask something"

They both looked at each other and simply shrugged as if to say that they don't know what you are talking about, they nodded and you continued "I wanted to ask the two of you out on a date- But it's okay if that's something you're not okay with!"

You were quick to reassure which made Natasha smirk at your nervous, they both had the same thing on their mind; To agree.

They both took your hand which made you look up "We would love to go out with you on a date"

Natasha nodded to agree with Wanda and that's when your smile grew wide "Really?"

Wanda nodded "Yes, we were waiting for you to do that for a long time дорогой (Darling)"

Pietro from the other side of the room dropped his sandwich at the sight "Get it girl!"

You looked over at him and gave him a confident smile to which he smirked and put his proud face "I did this" He looked over at Tony as he pointed towards yous, Tony rolled his eyes but had a small smile across his lips.

That's basically how that went, they were always fascinated by you but never made their move because they were slightly afraid you would end up rejecting them but turns out they were wrong...

That one mission that you thought was nothing but easy, despite being told to take more people with you, you were stubborn and didn't agree because you were confident that you and Pietro will take on anything, and even if you were right; You miscalculated one move..

Everything was going smooth, you and Pietro managed to convince everyone including your girlfriends that you would be fine, despite the gut feeling telling Wanda to go with you, she trusted you.

"Promise us you'll come back" Natasha whispered as she was hugged into you.

"Of course I will be back Nat, I promised you two a romantic evening today so yous will get that" You tried to convince them with the best confident tone you could master up.

Natasha pulled away with her glossy eyes boring into yours, as Wanda pulled you into her, she was crying because she hated goodbyes "You better be back Y/n/n or I will kick your butt"

You giggled a little "There will be no need for that I will be back"

She pulled away slightly as she placed a gentle kiss on your lips, something she has always done whenever you were going to missions. She took a step back and Natasha was quick to kiss you as well, she missed you already even if you weren't even gone yet.

You hated goodbyes so convincing yourself you will come back kept you going with the mission. You pulled away as Natasha took a step back to where she stood, she hugged into Wanda as they both watched you walk to where Pietro was.

He waved and they both waved back, he had a small sad smile across his lips, he pulled you into his side as he reassured you were going to be fine, just before the jet closed it's door..

Wanda shouted "Be safe! Both of you!"

You and Pietro turned last time and nodded in sync as the door closed, making yous both disappear and fly off to the mission. Wanda and Natasha went back to their room to do anything else but worry.

The mission went just like it was suppose to go but last minute there was something that pulled your attention, you pressed your com as you spoke "P there is something wrong in another part of this building, can you manage whilst I check it out?"

"Of course, I will be done in a second and I will join you"

You nodded to his words and ran off to the other building, with a gun in your hand you carefully scouted the place and checked for anything that's different.

That's when you heard quiet sobs, you slowly approached and that's when you saw a little boy sitting by a woman, probably his mother, she was stuck and you were quick to act.

You pulled off the pieces that were holding her down and pulled her out, she was able to stand on her feet so when Pietro arrived he took them to a safe place, what the woman failed to mention was that the building was falling apart so when you were shot by one of the enemies you stumbled back into the buildings infrastructure.

You held your shot wound as you looked down at your hand to see blood, before you could react a huge piece along with another small metal bars fell right on top of you.

Now you were trapped, good thing you still were able to take your gun that wasn't far from you and shoot the guy dead before he could finish you.

You groaned as you felt one of the piece of the building dig right into you, pushing you further into the ground "Pietro we might have a problem.."

You barely breathed out a sentence and before you knew it he was right besides you, he looked with panic at where you were. His attempt at trying to remove these parts only worsen the situation, he place his hands on it and started to pull which made a small hole on your stomach.

"No don't move it" You manged to whisper out to which he immediately moved away.

"Get.. Help" You were trying to save your energy as your breathing got worse, he nodded as his eyes filled with tears, he zoomed off to the jet where the radio was.

He alerted Tony and without hesitation wanted to return to you but there were still a lot of threats that he needed to care of, he prayed you would be fine.

You looked at how you were being crushed, what you or Pietro failed to see was the sharp metal pole dangling from the ceiling close to falling.

You breathed in and out calmly as you felt tears slide down your face, a voice came through into your ear that wasn't Pietro "Y/n we will be there soon, just breath in calmly and don't move"

Natasha and Wanda were informed instantly since they were apart of the team and Wanda was crucial to this whole rescue mission and knowing Natasha she wouldn't stay put especially when it comes to you.

"Please I don't want to die" You breathed out which was heard by the two redheads, their hearts broke at your pleads.

"I might be a risk taker but not today, please help" You sobbed out to the com and there was dead silence from their end.

"Hey дорогой (Darling) we will be right there, just hold on" Wanda's voice came through after couple long minutes.

You let out a shaky breath and just nodded because words weren't coming out, you laid on the cold floor as you waited for anyone to arrive and help you, just when you heard footsteps, you hid your gun in case they spot it and that's when it happened.

The metal pole tipped and fell, from the vibrations of the footsteps, it perfectly fit into that small hole that Pietro accidently made, stabbing you right inside your stomach, you gasp because yelling wasn't an option now.

Wanda and Natasha were seconds late but perfectly on time to witness the perfect fall, your eyes fell on the two redheads as blood slowly dripped down from your mouth.

Natasha dropped on her knees beside you as she held your hand tight letting tears fall freely from her "We are here котенок (Kitten)"

You smiled at her as you slightly nodded, you wanted to close your eyes but dying without seeing their face wasn't an option "I'm sorry.."

Natasha shook her head "There is noting to be sorry for, you're going to be fine."

You shook your head as you coughed up more blood "I'm sorry that I'm not coming back"

That's when Wanda's attention was turned towards you, she started to slowly take off the rubble of you but at those words, she rushed over as she dropped on her knees and held your other hand "No, remember I will kick your butt so you're coming back"

You smiled but it didn't met your eyes "I love yous.. so much"

"Y/n you're not going to die because you can't die" Natasha spoke up preventing her sobs as she watched as your eyes become heavy.

Wanda nodded quickly to agree "We need you Y/n/n please stay for us"

You was trying with everything you had, the more you breathed the more the pole moved and sleepiness was getting to you, you nodded with the last big of energy "Please... say"

"Say what Y/n?" Natasha questioned as your grip on their hands got weaker.

"It back" You manged to finish that sentence.

"I love you" They both said in perfect sync as you smiled again.

As soon as Tony along with Thor arrived and their attention was pulled towards them, that's when you closed your eyes completely, letting the darkness take you as whole.

Natasha looked back at you "No, no no no"

This made Wanda look, before she could say anything Tony called her to help to which she had to, she was up and using her powers to get you out without causing more damage.

As soon as they lifted most of the rubble off you, Natasha along with Thor pulled you out, Steve, Bucky and Sam were off helping Pietro and Bruce was patiently waiting for you to be brought in.

As soon as you were brought back to the compound, you were stuck in the surgery for many hours and through all of them, Natasha and Wanda sat there waiting for any update to be made.

They were hoping everything was going to be okay, that they will see your smile again as it was their favourite highlight of the day. The little risky things you would do for them just so you could see them laugh was your favourite thing.

You were absolutely whipped for them and they were whipped for you. You were still holding on because before joining you didn't have anyone to live for, but since you met them they were worth living for.

There wasn't enough hours in the day to be spent with the two redheads so holding on to see them was something you'll do even if it meant it was the last thing you do.

Wanda was asleep on Natasha's shoulder but the Russian couldn't close her eyes because all she saw was the blood pouring out of your mouth and the slowly fading life from your eyes.

The couple doctors that looked like they went through war itself, left the room which startled both redheads, causing them to jump up within seconds, looking more tired than before.

"Is she okay?!" Wanda was first to question the defeated looking doctors.

It was hard to read their emotions as they were in there for hours without breaks that even some of them collapsed into empty chairs taking couple breathes.

One of the doctors that nodded and continued to where they were suppose to go, Natasha sighed with so much relief and Wanda jumped right into her arms with joyful tear sliding down her face.

You were in a coma for some time until you woke up and your room was flooded with every person, Pietro was the first one to visit, besides Wanda and Natasha they practically never left you.

The hope was given that you would be okay but the reality was far from it, relaying on just hope is mostly disappointing, you were having difficulties which you never raised to Wanda or Natasha throughout months of finally being able to get out of that hospital room.

You hid them perfectly until one day, you were walking along side the two women you loved when suddenly the pain in your stomach hit you out of no where. It was a lot more stronger than normal, which caused you to stop.

They both looked at you confused and that's when they noticed a pool of blood form on your shirt, you looked down and back at them with shock in your eyes.

They panicked because this was something that they didn't expect especially since you had been hiding your suffering from them, you didn't want to stress them out because they already acted like you were fragile when in fact you didn't want to be.

Natasha rushed over to you as she took your arm and placed it over her shoulders to carry you to the medical wing "Has this happened before?"

You shook your head "N-no"

Wanda followed the Russian's lead as they both dragged you to the medic, she manage to look inside your head "Why didn't you tell us you were having issues?"

You looked at her realising what she has done "I didn't want to worry yous"

"So this has happened before?" Natasha asked again as they both placed you down on the bed.

You held your stomach "Not to this extent, it was slightly pain"

You inhaled sharply as the pain increased, turns out the doctors missed a very important piece to which it now caused a tear in your insides causing an opening and the sudden bleeding.

You knew this was going to be the end, you held on for as long as you could, the darkness coming back was a sign for you to let go for once and for all.

You reached out with both of your blooded hands towards the two women to which they were quick to react to, you smiled slightly at them "I am so happy we met"

They smiled not really understand why you are saying this, so continued "This isn't the end because we will meet again"

Wanda nodded "Of course we will meet, I will go get the doctor"

Your grip tighten indicating for her to not go "I wish it was all different and I could've spent more time with yous, I love yous so much"

The bleeding started to get worse to the point of dripping all over where you laid, Natasha looked down as panic filled her once again, this time she understood what was happening and there was no saving this time.

She had tears in her eyes as she placed a soft kiss on your hand as you finally took your last breath, Wanda refused to believe it as she rushed out to get someone but Natasha broke down besides you watching as they tried to get your heartbeat back.

Nothing worked, with a defeated look and sad eyes, the doctors delivered the sad news to the Sokovian, she fell onto the ground as tears streamed down her face. Both of the redheads world just fell apart as you took your last breath....

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

self-help

y'all liked my first fic, so here is another!

TW: Blood and injury; wound descriptions

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“Are you all alright?” Alcina asked, looking over each of the three creatures assembled in front of her. The blonde was slightly roughed up, but still stood up tall; the brunette bore a particularly nasty cut across her cheek, though it didn’t seem to bother her; and the redhead was slathered in man blood from getting to kill the intruder that had foolishly entered their castle and tried to murder them.

“Yes, Mother,” the blonde said, always quick to answer Alcina.

Alcina nodded. She looked at her other two daughters. “And you two?”

“I’m okay,” the redhead chirped. She seemed delighted to have killed something that day.

The brunette lightly touched the cut on her cheek, winced, then nodded, “I’m fine. It isn’t that bad.”

“We should still make sure any of that man-thing’s filth didn’t get into you,” Alcina said. She opened an arm and began guiding her middle child down one of the hallways. “Daniela, do what you will with the body. You’ve earned it.”

The redhead perked up, beaming, and bounded down a different hallway to where the corpse of the man had been left. Once she was gone, only the blonde was left behind in the foyer, and the girl instantly doubled over with a moan of pain, holding her stomach.

“Fuck,” Bela hissed. She was lucky for the dark material of her dress or else the blood seeping through the fabric would have easily been seen by her mother and sisters, and worrying them was the last thing she wanted. It was her own fault that she was shot. There were better things for them to focus on, anyway. Like Cassandra’s cut! Yes, that was definitely more important. She didn’t need any help.

Bela stepped forward and immediately crumpled to her knees when a spasm of pain rippled through her stomach. She bit down firmly to keep from crying out and tasted blood when her teeth pierced her tongue. Usually, the metallic tang would be rather appetizing, but something about it right now made her guts churn and twist up into knots, which definitely didn’t help her discomfort.

Kneeling, still holding her stomach, Bela rocked back and forth while taking several calming breaths. Breathing deeply furthered the strain in her stomach, while not breathing at all just made her chest hurt- she couldn’t win. All she could do was grit her teeth and bear with it like she did with everything. Don’t be a burden, don’t be a burden.

“Lady Bela?”

Bela looked up. A wiry, ash brown-haired maid was lingering at the opening of one of the cavernous hallways, shifting on her feet. Her dark amber eyes displayed nervousness, curiosity, and worry. The last emotion wasn’t an uncommon thing to see, at least towards Bela. Because of her general politeness to the castle workers, they tended to show more concern over her. The perks of not killing them for no reason, she supposed.

“Yes?” Bela said, forcing her voice to stay level and not quaver beneath the fiery edge of her own agony. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she especially didn’t want to cause a scene in front of a maid. That was almost as bad as her sisters seeing her in such a state--though, for what it was worth, the maids wouldn’t tease her endlessly.

“Are you alright?” the maid asked, taking a small step forward. She was looking Bela up and down, most likely searching for any wounds, and Bela once again thanked Mother Miranda for black fabric.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Bela answered. At the same moment, however, a second wave of pain roared through her and her vision was suddenly spotted by black snow. Did someone open the window? And how long had snow been black? None of her books ever said anything about this…

“Lady Bela?”

Bela blinked harshly, and the storm disappeared. No windows were open. Snow was not black. The maid got closer.

“Ahh--” Bela swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” The maid seemed to be trying to hold herself together. She was probably fearing for her own life if something happened to one of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters under her watch. Bela would prefer to not have this one die, as she was nice enough to actually check on her instead of ignoring the situation like other maids would, even if Bela denied her physical state when she asked how she was.

“Yes, yes,” Bela said, nodding. “I’m alright. Just…stomach cramps?”

The maid blinked. “Do you even go through a menstrual cycle?”

Bela splayed her fingers open with a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

The maid actually laughed, which was a rare thing to happen. But the laughter was quickly cut off when her eyes focused on something, clouding over with concern, and Bela realized she was staring at her hands.

There was blood on her hands.

Her blood.

Bela balled her fists and cleared her throat. She looked up at the maid. “Go.”

The maid opened her mouth, but thought against whatever she was planning on saying, not wanting to test Bela’s civility--not that Bela would have hurt her if she had stuck around to speak whatever was on her mind. She dipped her head and scurried off, glancing over her shoulder as she went.

Bela sighed. She wiped her hands on a part of her dress that wasn’t damp. She needed to do something about her problem before her mother or one of her sisters found out.

Standing up was difficult, and Bela was sure Cassandra or Daniela, most likely both, would have teased her if they saw her like this. When she began to walk, she felt blood slither in slow trails down her legs, itching her skin. She fought the urge to scratch until she made it to the privacy of her bedroom, then instantly began shredding her dress with her claws, throwing the tatters of wet fabric to the floor to be picked up later. Once the gown was off, she turned to her mirror to inspect the damage.

Red. The entire front of her body was smeared in red. And beneath the red, there were holes, some as small as her pinky, some as big as a coin, each even darker than the blood and packed full of shrapnel.

Bela had been a fool to go after the man-thing on her own. As reckless and wild as Cassandra and Daniela were with their fighting, they were strong, much stronger than she was. She had seen them withstand vicious stabs and strikes and shots that would have killed any normal person and keep slashing their claws as if nothing had happened, but it took a blast from a shotgun to put her down. She was so blinded by the idea of killing the intruder to impress her mother that she didn’t even think to create an actual plan until she became well-acquainted with leaden bullet chunks against her midsection.

The buckshot was evenly spread out along her abdomen, and maybe it could have passed as paint splattered all over her body if it wasn’t for the malevolent grey peeking out from liquid red. There was a particularly large cluster of holes on her left side, where an entire chunk of meat had been blown free from her waist, but they reached all the way over to her navel and up to the underside of her chest. The bullet pieces were the seeds of her agony, and she desperately needed to reap them from her flesh.

Bela began rummaging through one of her drawers, straining the lead lodged in her skin, and pulled out an old cotton gown she hadn’t worn in years. She walked over to the rocking chair in the corner near the window and sat down. She loved this chair, and it was a shame that it was going to be bled all over, but wood was easier to clean than cloth. She didn’t want to risk staining her bed right now.

Biting down on the gown, Bela began going over the buckshot. There were eighteen holes in total, all of them full of lead. She nearly miscounted a few times because she thought some of them were empty, but then realized the bullets were just buried in her tissue. There was one in particular that she didn’t even see, but could feel shifting around beneath her flesh like a hungry maggot. It made her stomach roil in disgust.

This was not going to be fun.

Bela’s hands were shaking as she brought them down to her stomach. Simply brushing the skin sent waves of torture shivering through her nerves, and she didn’t even want to think about what it was going to feel like to actually remove the slugs, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t just leave them inside of her.

Taking a deep breath and biting down hard on the gown, Bela stuck her pointer finger and thumb into one of the holes. Instantly, her vision flashed black, then red, and then white, and she was sure she had passed out for a few eternal seconds. Even when she pried her eyes back open, all she saw was a messy mishmash of swirling colors, and she wondered if she had somehow gone blind. But then sight slowly oozed back to her, and she was able to see the grotesque image of her fingers stretching the edges of a bullet hole.

She swallowed down acidic bile and grasped the sides of the piece of lead.

For a moment, the stubborn little thing didn’t want to come out, and Bela began to fear that it was just a part of her now, forever fused with her flesh, burrowed within her like a leaden parasite, but then it popped out with a small spew of blood and she was able to catch her breath. She dropped the ball, which was no bigger than her pinky finger, and watched it bounce across the floor before rolling beneath her bed. She would get it later. Right now, she had its stupid siblings to deal with.

Breathing in deeply again, clamping down on the gown like before, Bela dug her fingers into a second hole that looked easy enough to scoop out. And it was, surprisingly. The blood proved to be a helpful lubricant and the bullet slid right out when she tugged, not bothering to put up a fight. She peered at it for a moment, squinting her watery eyes.

“You are an asshole,” she spat.

The bullet winked at her in response, the bright red blood coating its surface catching on the light inside the room and making it twinkle like a ruby. She flicked it away, and it left a line of crimson across her polished floors. She would clean that up later, too.

Third time’s a charm. Bela prepared herself again, breathing in and biting down, and dove into the next hole.

She didn’t know why she thought the process of pulling out bullets would suddenly be easier just because she succeeded with the first two. She was an idiot when she had gotten shot and she was an idiot now, trying to rid herself from the consequence of her actions.

Her claws slipped on the slickness of her blood and accidentally pushed the bullet in deeper.

Bela would have screamed if it weren’t for the blood that crawled up her throat, clogging her esophagus. She coughed, thinking that the bullet was going to come out of her mouth, and red splattered across her bare chest, staining her bra. Tears sprang to her eyes and poured down her cheeks. Her shaking hands hovered over the hole, but she couldn’t see the slug anywhere.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Bela muttered. Did she push it so deep it breached one of her organs? What would happen if it did? How was she going to get it out?

She tried to stretch the edges of the wound, but stopped when she nearly threw up from the pain. She sobbed. What was she going to do? Bela leaned back against the chair, causing it to rock slowly. Maybe she could just leave the bullets inside of her. They probably wouldn’t kill her. She and her sisters were able to endure more than normal creatures could, so it would probably just be very uncomfortable. For the rest of her life.

She swallowed blood and bile. Having to spend the rest of eternity like this didn’t sound very appealing. In fact, it sounded like the complete opposite of appealing. Unappealing.

A sound snapped Bela out of her muddled thoughts; the doorknob was wiggling. Someone was coming into her room.

Lunging forward, nearly slipping on a tiny puddle of her blood, Bela slammed the door shut before it could be opened completely and pressed her weight against it. From the other side, she heard a noise of surprise.

“Bela? What is the meaning of this?”

Her heart sank into her bullet-infested insides. It was her mother. She just slammed the door in her mother’s face. Oh, she was in for it now.

Bela nearly opened up right then and there and got down on her knees to apologize, but one glance down at her horribly-scathed body made her think better of it. She had told Alcina that she was fine, and now she needed to live up to it, even if she felt like she was being swarmed and eaten by her own insects. She had to swallow down her hopeless devotion to her mother to keep her from worrying over her.

“Sorry,” Bela said, hoping her voice wasn’t wavering as much as she thought it was. “I, uhh-- I thought you were Cassandra or Daniela. They always barge into my room without knocking. I don’t appreciate it very much.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but she still didn’t feel good about making up an excuse.

From out in the hallway, Alcina was quiet for a moment, and Bela wondered if she was going to break down the door and let herself in. But then she chuckled and said, “I see. I remember the time you tried to set traps for them when they kept interrupting your reading time.”

Bela laughed, which morphed into a groan of pain when her stomach strained. SHe masked it with a cough, then replied, “They were good traps!”

“Darling, you set up a board full of nails for them to step on.”

“My point still stands.”

“And a tripwire that would trigger a pot to swing into their face and knock them out.”

“You got to admit that it was pretty impressive that I was able to make that.”

Alcina chuckled again. “Yes, you have always been my most resourceful little one.”

Bela’s chest warmed with pride. The praise momentarily made her forget about the pain she was in.

“Now, can you let me in? I need to talk to you.”

And like that, the pain was back, the soothing warmth chased off by icy cold dread. Did her mother know? Did that maid snitch on her? She swallowed thickly.

“Umm-- can’t we just talk like this? It’s just as effective.”

“I would prefer it if I was able to see you when I speak to you,” Alcina said. She paused for a moment. “Why can’t I come in?”

“I’m-- I’m naked.”

Also wasn’t a lie, technically.

Alcina was quiet for a moment.

“Bela, I watched you come out of a mass of insects as naked as a babe. I do not think there’s anything left to be seen that I don’t know about already.”

You’d be surprised, Bela thought, looking down at her marred form.

“It’s-- it’s just embarrassing for me!”

Alcina sighed. “Then why don’t you put some clothes on?”

Realizing she wasn’t going to get out of this conversation, Bela said, “Right! Okay!” And then began scrambling for something to wear. The exertion made the two empty bullet holes pucker like hungry mouths and drool out even more blood that drizzled down her legs like snakes. She didn’t have time to clean herself up, so she just threw on the first gown she could reach in one of her drawers--a dark blue one she had sewn herself--wiped her hands off, kicked the tattered black dress under the bed, and smeared the blood on the floor until it couldn’t be seen against the hardwood. Then, she put on the most believable, while also innocent expression of normalcy and opened her door.

“My lady,” she said with a wide sweeping motion of her arm, trying to be funny, trying to hide the fact that she was in immense pain and simply being on her feet made her lightheaded, trying not to worry her mother.

Alcina didn’t laugh at her joke. She seemed rather suspicious as she ducked into the room--not that Bela really blamed her. She was definitely being very suspicious.

“What did you want to talk about?” Bela asked, looking up at her mother.

Alcina looked around her room, but Bela had been smart enough to clean the floors. Not well, but they were clean. When she found nothing, she studied Bela, and Bela held herself as she usually did--maybe a bit too formally.

“I just wanted to check on you all after the attack,” Alcina finally answered, meeting her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mother,” Bela said, and she hated lying to Alcina, but she didn’t have a choice. She hated being a burden even more and that was all she was going to be if Alcina found out about her wounds.

“Are you sure?” Alcina narrowed her eyes at her.

“Yes, Mother,” Bela repeated. Then, trying to change the subject, she asked, “How is Cassandra?”

“She’s okay,” Alcina answered. “She will heal. The cut wasn’t very deep.”

“And Daniela?”

“Feasting. I wouldn’t go near her if I were you. She may just maim you and add you to her meal.” A smile came to Alcina’s lips, and Bela let herself laugh.

Unfortunately, that laughter quickly turned to coughing as her body seized with pain. She tasted blood as the bullets seemed to rattle within her, flesh clenching down around lead. She wiped her mouth before pulling her hand away.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Alcina didn’t respond for a moment. Her entire face was knitted with great concern, and Bela already felt bad for worrying her.

“Bela, are you sure you are alright?”

For a fourth time that day: “Yes, Mother.”

Alcina wasn’t going to let it go that easily, it seemed, because she questioned further: “Have you caught a chill?” She walked over and pressed a hand to Bela’s forehead. Bela couldn’t help but lean into it, always eager to be touched by her mother. “You shouldn’t be coughing like that.”

“I just had a tickle in my throat.”

“I don’t like being lied to, Bela.”

Bela’s resolve nearly broke beneath her mother’s stern gaze, but she kept her facade from falling through sheer willpower alone. She said, “I’m not.”

Alcina’s eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand back and went to say something when she appeared to slip on something. Steadying herself, she looked down at the ground, and Bela’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what exactly her mother had staggered on.

Alcina bent over and picked up the buckshot.

Bela didn’t let her panic show on her face as Alcina examined the tiny lead ball. Its siblings, still lodged deep in her stomach, seemed to giggle at the predicament she was ensnared in when a fresh bout of pain quivered through her nerves. She stayed calm as flashing yellow eyes slid back over to her.

“Bela,” Alcina said slowly, and Bela already didn’t like the tone she was using. “What is this?”

Bela considered playing dumb, but then she remembered that she was the smart, bookish one. She could use her multitude of knowledge as an excuse.

“That’s buckshot, Mother. It comes from a shotgun. Did you know that they have enough firepower to blow a head off? It’s because it has several bullets in one shot instead of a singular one, which means more power behind each blast.”

Alcina held a hand up and Bela instantly shut her mouth.

“Why do you have it?” Alcina asked.

“I was studying it,” Bela answered. It was believable enough. It did sound like something she would do, but Alcina didn’t seem very convinced.

“Your blood is on this, Bela,” Alcina said. “Why is your blood on this bullet?”

“I-- I--” Bela’s act was beginning to crumble.

Alcina turned to her completely, clenching the buckshot in her fist. “Were you shot?”

“Mother, I--”

“Were you shot?”

“Yes,” Bela blurted, unable to hide it anymore. “But-- but it isn’t that--”

“Show me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Bela Dimitrescu, show me where you are hurt. Now.”

Flinching at her mother’s severe tone, Bela removed her dress and revealed the mess on her stomach and chest. When she heard Alcina gasp, she quickly said, “It isn’t that bad. You don’t have to worry about me, Mother. I can take care of it.”

“You fool!” Alcina exploded, and Bela flinched away. “What were you thinking?! Why would you hide this from me?!”

“I-- I thought I could--” Bela was having a hard time collecting her words. If there was one thing she really hated, it was when people raised their voices, even if it wasn’t directed towards her. When Cassandra and Daniela would get into fights, she always left the room and got as far away as possible so she wouldn’t have to hear them yelling. But, as bad as their shouting was, it was nothing compared to their mother when she was worked up.

“I--”

“I asked you if you were alright!” Alcina roared on. “If you were okay! You said you were! And then I come in here and find you with bullets in your flesh?!” She shook her head, nearly dislodging her hat from her head. “What do you have to say for yourself, Bela?”

Personally? Bela really wished they weren’t having this conversation when she didn’t have a shirt on.

Dipping her head shamefully, the only thing that Bela could manage was a pathetic, “I’m sorry, Mother.”

“Why can’t you just let me help you for once?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Bela confessed. “Or worry you.”

Alcina sighed and rubbed her face slowly. “Bela, I am more worried and disappointed because you hid this from me.”

Bela could only squeak out a feeble, “Oh.”

Alcina knelt down in front of her and lifted her chin. “Honey, why would I be disappointed in you for coming to me for help?”

Bela couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes. “Because-- because I got hurt. And I shouldn’t have. I’m a shitty fighter and got shot and I should have been stronger.”

“Your strength has nothing to do with this,” Alcina said. “Cassandra got hurt too, you know.”

“Cassandra probably didn’t care.”

“I beg to differ. You should have seen her while I was rubbing honey into her wound. She was wiggling around like a little worm!”

Bela laughed slightly, then whimpered immediately after. Alcina glanced at her bullet-filled body, then cupped her cheeks.

“Do you know what I would have done if you had died from these wounds?”

Bela tried not to look at her.

“I would have done everything in my power to get you back to me. I would tear down the sun and moon for you, my darling.” There was so much love in Alcina’s words, so much tenderness and care. Bela was drawn to it. “Please tell me you will come to me next time something happens. I cannot fathom the thought of you being in any more pain.”

Whether or not she actually would when the time came, Bela nodded. Alcina smiled at her warmly and placed a kiss against her forehead.

“That’s my good girl,” she said. “Now…” Her eyes slid down to the bullet wounds. “To handle this.”

“I tried to get them out myself,” Bela said. “I promise I tried. I got two out, but then-- but I couldn’t--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her hair. “You tried. That’s all that matters. But I am so proud of you, darling. It must not have been easy.”

Bela shook her head with a whimper.

“Alright,” Alcina stood up straight. “Come on. Lay on your bed. We need to get those little devils out of you.”

Bela didn’t disobey. She had already disobeyed enough for one day. She crawled onto her bed, whimpering each time her body bent in a way the bullets disagreed with. They felt like festering parasites inside her stomach. She was lightheaded.

“Mama,” she moaned. She was the last to stop calling Alcina such a thing. Cassandra was first, then Daniela, and when they both heard her still referring to their mother in that way, they teased her. While it had been done playfully, it was still enough to embarrass Bela and get her to stop to avoid risking further humiliation. But now she didn’t even care. She was far too uncomfortable to care about anything her sisters had to say.

“Mama…”

Alcina caressed the side of her face. “I’m right here, baby. Lay back for me.

Bela, as loyal as a hound, did as she was told. Her head rested against one of her fluffy pillows, but it did little to stop the room from spinning like a top. She looked over at Alcina anxiously, but her mother had an expression of focus and calm.

“Alright, my dove,” Alcina said, cupping one of her clammy, pallid cheeks. “I need you to lay as still as possible for me. Do you think you can do that?”

Bela nodded feebly.

“Very good. I’m going to start now, alright? Just stay still and breathe. I’ll work as quickly as I can.”

Another nod.

“Here I go.”

Even with the warning, Bela’s body still jolted when she felt the sharp stab of her mother’s claws against one of the bullet holes. Her eyes snapped open, but she was blind for several seconds before details bled back into awareness. To her own credit, she managed to keep from crying out, but only because she clenched her jaw so hard she chipped one of her fangs. Cassandra and Danieal were definitely going to tease her over that later, but it was the least of her problems at the moment.

The third bullet slid out with relative ease, lubricated by her blood, and, Mother Miranda, she was only just realizing she had fifteen more to go.

“One down,” Alcina said, flicking the buckshot to the floor. She lifted Bela’s chin to examine her broken tooth. “Hmm. It’ll grow back, don’t worry. It didn’t chip that much.”

“I was using a gown,” Bela said, her words coming out wheezy and weak. “To bite down on.” She pointed to the dress left on the rocking chair. “Can I use it again?”

Alcina followed her hand, spotting the bundle of fabric. “Oh, clever girl!” she praised, rubbing Bela’s head. She picked up the gown and gave it to Bela. “As I said before: you are my bright little daughter.”

Bela smiled shyly before biting down on the gown. She gave her mother an affirmative look to begin again.

The next three bullets went out smoothly--or as smoothly as little masses of lead wedged in sensitive tissue and muscle could be. But then Alcina got to one of the deeper slugs and it didn’t come out when tugged on, causing Bela to cry out and jerk away.

“Breathe, darling,” Alcina said, settling her back on her back when she tried to roll over. “Breathe. It’s alright. This one is a little deeper. A lot of them are going to be, but I need you to stay still and stay calm for me. Can you do that?”

“I-- I don’t know,” Bela said honestly.

Alcina frowned. She stroked her face, wiping away tears. “I know you can. You’re strong, Bela, regardless of what you think. And just know that I am so proud of you.”

Bela reached up to grab her mother’s hand. She pressed into the warm palm like a kitten seeking heat in the middle of a winter storm. Finally, she relented, “Okay.”

“Thank you, darling,” Alcina crooned. She went to return to her work, but Bela didn’t release her hand. “I need you to let me go, Bela.”

Bela was unwilling to part with the warmth, so Alcina did it herself, easily peeling her fingers away. She touched her cheek tenderly for a moment before saying, “Bite down and breathe, baby. I’m starting again.”

Bela did as she was told, grinding her teeth into the gown as claws returned to her sore stomach. She flinched, but didn’t try to squirm away again, grounding herself by grasping handfuls of the sheets beneath her.

Seven, eight, nine, ten… Alcina worked diligently, expertly removing the buckshot from Bela’s body. When she got to the eleventh one and it proved to be rather reluctant to leave its host, she stopped for a moment to give Bela time to breathe and prepare herself.

“You’re doing so good,” Alcina cooed, stroking Bela’s hair, which was wet with cold sweat. Bela had started to tremble at some point, though she didn’t exactly know when, but she hoped it wasn’t making the bullet removal harder than it already was.

“Mama,” Bela mewled. “It hurts…”

“I know,” Alcina hushed her. “I know. I’m almost done. Just eight more to go.”

“Hurry-- hurry--” Bela panted.

“Are you sure? You can wait a moment longer to catch your breath.”

Bela shook her head. “Please.”

Alcina pursed her lips, then nodded. “Alright. Here I go.”

Bela braced herself.

“Eleven…”

Bela breathed.

“Twelve…”

Bela bit down.

“Thirteen…”

Bela--

Bela screamed.

Bela screamed because the fourteenth bullet was buried deep within her flesh, burrowed in her warmth like a maggot in a corpse. She kicked out her legs and tried to yell for Alcina to stop, but blood mixed with bile lurched up the back of her throat and her mouth was clogged with fluids. Alcina ripped out the pellet with enough force to slit the edges of the hole with her claws, threw it to the floor, and then lifted Bela’s head so she wouldn’t inhale her own blood and choke. Bela coughed, staining her chest in a fresh layer of red.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her thumb with her cheek. “Nothing to apologize for, darling. You’re doing very well. We’re so close to finishing.”

Bela looked at her, breathing heavily, her throat thick with blood. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded weakly. Alcina set her head back down on the pillow.

“Here we go, my sweet. Just a little longer.”

But Bela wasn’t able to handle it when the fifteenth was removed. She grabbed her mother by the wrist when she reached for the sixteenth one, clinging tightly.

“No more, no more--” Bela begged.

Alcina frowned. “I have to get them out, baby. You’re so close.”

Bela shook her head. “No, no-- can’t we-- can’t we just leave them in?”

“Bela. You’re smarter than that. You know we can’t.”

“But-- but it hurts,” Bela wept. “I can’t-- I can’t take it anymore. Please, Mama. Please just stop .”

Above her, Alcina looked incredibly worried. She ran her bloody claws through Bela’s hair, soothing her.

“I have to,” Alcina said. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Bela sobbed, but didn’t stop her.

With a cruel yank, the sixteenth bullet dislodged with a spit of blood. Bela shredded the sheets beneath her.

The seventeenth took some digging, with her mother stretching the tender edges of the hole with one hand, picking out flesh with the other. She nearly threw up at the disgusting squelching sounds that filled the air, but managed to save herself from the humiliation by swallowing hard.

The eighteenth, the one she had accidentally pushed in deeper, was the worst. It was like having a hot knife thrust into her soft stomach over and over again. She shivered with pain and blood loss as she felt the bullet being tugged on in her ragged flesh. It was a sickening friction of skin sucking against the force of her mother’s claws. She didn’t even know if it came out fully because her eyes rolled to the back of her head and everything went black.

——— ——— ———

Wiping her claws of blood, Alcina frowned down at her eldest daughter. Bela was unconscious. It seemed the pain was finally too much for her little body. Though, she made it all the way to the end. Alcina was expecting her to pass out a lot sooner.

And she said she wasn’t strong.

Scooping her up into her arms, Alcina carried Bela to her bedroom, telling a maid to clean up the bloody mess left behind. Once inside her chambers, she ran Bela a hot bath, washing her of all the blood that stained her body. The warm water seemed to rouse her daughter because shiny amber eyes peeked out from under heavy eyelids as she was cleaning out her hair.

“Mama,” Bela breathed out.

Alcina smiled at her lovingly. “Hello, my sweet.”

Bela looked around sluggishly. She seemed dazed. “I’m… huh?”

“You passed out,” Alcina informed her.

“The buckshot…?”

“All out,” Alcina reached out to caress her cheek. “It’s over. You did it. I’m so proud of you, baby girl.”

Bela, always wanting affection, pressed into her hand. “Finally…”

Alcina chuckled. “I’m just going to finish washing all this blood off and then you can lay back down. You need lots of rest to heal.”

“Can you…?”

Alcina smiled again. Her heart swelled with adoration and love towards her daughter.

“Yes, I will lay with you.”

Bela had definitely earned it.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #resident evil fanfic #self-help #tw: blood #tw: wounds

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nights-legacy · 4 years

Text

Figure in Red-Zuko

Prince Zuko-A:TLA

+Y/N has been injured while out on leisure stroll while the team was resting. Once patched up, hey all go to sleep that night only to be awakened a few hours later by the surrounding animals going nuts. The other go out while she stays. Fire nation soldiers appear and Y/N has to hide but not very well. She finds help in an unlikely individual.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

“I can’t believe you can be so reckless! This is why we stay together!” I rolled my eyes at the Water Tribe man. He was ranting about my disappearance that lasted longer then he’d like and not coming back, uninjured.

“Sokka…” I tried to get a word in but it wasn’t happening.

“What if we hadn’t realized something was wrong? You could have been stuck in that bear trap forever!” He threw his arms around. He started muttering about idiocy and other things I couldn’t make out.

“Sokka, I’m fine!” I flinched as Katara brushed a more sensitive wound. She gave me an apologetic smile. “I know it was stupid but I am okay now.” He went to say something. “Katara, help.”

“Sokka, calm down.” Katara said. “She’s fine. It wasn’t a very well set trap so the wounds only minor.” She gave her brother a look before turning her eyes on me, saying something only I could hear. “Doesn’t mean its going to hurt any less and you will still have trouble walking on your own.”

“Plus. It’s not like you haven’t done anything stupid before. Do I have to remind you of the hole incident?” Toph laughed. Sokka glared at her and Aang who was trying not to laugh.

“Or maybe your poor choice in food choice every now and again. As well as, many other things I won’t name.” Aang added. Sokka glared as the airbender. Toph burst out laughing and I somehow held mine in.

“There we go. It’s better, not completely but better.” Katara said getting up from healing my leg. I sighed in relief, carefully moving my leg around. Sokka sighed too.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I just worry.” He said after Katara assured him. I nodded in understanding.

“I know but remember, I am okay.” He smiled and sat down next to the fire. We ate our supper and went to bed.

After a few hours, we were woken up by the noises of distressed animals. They seemed to be all screaming and running from one direction. The others shot up and Aang jumped into a nearby tree to get a better look.

“What’s going on, Twinkle Toes.” Toph screamed.

“Somethings happening. I can’t quite see it. Over there!” Aang pointed. “We need to see what it is.” He jumped over to Appa from the tree. Sokka ran over to me to help m onto the bison.

“No, no. I’ll stay here. I won’t be much help in a fight or anything at the moment.” They looked unsure. “Go. I’ll be okay. I promise, I won’t leave the clearing”

“Okay. You know what to do if someone comes along.” He ran over and they took off. I moved gently and took some water to put out the rest of fire along with some dirt. After a little while, as I sat there, wrapped in a blanket,I started to hear the sound of incoming soldiers. The clanking of the armor gave them away.

“Oh no…” I looked around frantically before getting up quickly. I winced but kept moving. I was able to get to the bushes and ducked behind them. I was in pain but was trying to keep quiet. Fire nation soldiers came to the edge of the clearing. “Oh my…”

“Shh.” A hand was placed over my mouth. I jerked and turned to see none other than Zuko. My eyes widen at the sight of the Fire prince.

“You!” I whispered shouted. I pushed him away from me hard. He fought back and was able to pin me down easy on my state. He hovered over me, body flush against mine.

“Now be quiet, unless you want them to find us!” His gaze moved from me to them. His gaze was intense and focused. I looked towards them as well. After only a few minutes the soldiers moved on. He shifted above me, creating some space between us but also moving his weight and hitting my injured leg.

“Ow!” I whimpered and his gaze shot to me. I swore I saw a worried glint.

“What?” He sounded concerned.

“I caught my leg in a trap earlier today and you’re kind of on it.” He looked and quickly got off up. I sat up slowly and saw him looking it over. He unwrapped the now loose bindings. He lite a small flame to have some light to see.

“I’m sorry.” His touch was surprisingly gentle as he checked it out. The warmth from the flame was also nice. I tried not to let this dampen my guard.

“What are you doing here? If you’re trying to get to Aang through me, it won’t work.” I warned. He sighed before looking up at me with bright eyes.

“No, that’s not it. Right now, he is not a priority. And I wouldn’t use you.” He said. He turned his attention back down and re-wrapped the bindings before he sat back on his heels, just looking at me.

“Why?” I said confused after a minute.

“Which statement does that apply too?” He sassed, crossing his arms. I rolled my eyes.

“Why wouldn’t you use me?” He was silent for a minute, looking at the ground in thought.

“Because I care…”

“There you are!” A fire nation soldier popped up. Zuko was on his feet in a second. He stood at the ready in between the soldier and I. “The banished prince and his little lady friend. My, my. This would give me some boost points.”

“Don’t touch her!” Zuko warned. The soldier just sneered before darting forward. He tried to attack Zuko but his fire was deflect easily. Fire was flying through the air. A few striped of flame came close to me every now and again. They fought and at one point the man some how knocked Zuko off his feet. He turned to me.

“Now, looks like you can’t give much of a fight.” He took a few steps before Zuko swung his body around on the ground, tripping the man. He hit the ground hard and smack his head. The man was out and Zuko was pulling me up before I could blink.

“We need to go!” He picked me up bridal style and ran. He set me down on a rock after a few minutes of running and made sure I was okay. Looking over every inch of me.

“Zuko, I’m fine.” I set my hands on his forearms. His breathing was heavy. I looked into his eyes. He suddenly leant down suddenly and his lips were on mine, kissing me passionately. I was surprised but only for a second before melting into the kiss. He pulled away. I noticed my hands were now on his shoulders and his were around my waist tight. “Zuko, I…”

“Y/N!” We jumped and my arms slipped from his shoulders. I looked in the direction the voice came from. It sounded like Aang. I could hear rustling and multiple sets of footsteps.

“Y/N, where are you!” I looked back to tell Zuko to go, only to see he was already gone. I never felt him let go of me. “Y/N!”

“I-I’m over here!” I called back. They ran over and found me.

“Y/N, how did you end up here?” Aang asked. He was looking me over.

“You said you wouldn’t leave the clearing.” Sokka scolded.

“Well I, I, um… This man came out of nowhere and brought me here. Fire benders found the clearing and he helped me get away before they could find me.”

“You’re clothes are singed.” Katara brushed a hand on my shoulder. I looked and saw the shoulder and arm of my top was blackened.

“Uh yeah. One soldier found us and got a little close before the man intervened.”

“Where is the guy now?” Toph asked. “I don’t feel anyone else around.”

“He ran off just before you found me.” I wasn’t lying, I just wasn’t telling the whole truth. I don’t think they would take it to well if I told them Zuko was the one who helped me.

“Well, let’s get you on Appa and get out of here. Who knows if there are any more Fire nation soldiers around. We don’t want to get caught, especially since they’re probably the ones causing all the disturbances.” Sokka picked me up and Toph help him get me up on Appa. Katara came over and looked at my leg.

“These have been re-wrapped.” She looked up at me.

“They came loose when I had to hide quick. The guy was nice enough to re-wrap it for me.”

“Who was this guy? I mean he sounds like he would make a great addition to the team.” Sokka said from his spot near the front. “I mean he got you out of danger, treated your wound, and fought a fire nation soldier. Almost sounds to good to be true.”

“Yeah. Almost.” I said while Katara moved away and up next to Aang. I looked around and just before Aang took off. In the few moments we were still in the trees, I saw a figure in red standing in the tree line. Warmth shot through my chest as he waved. I touched my lips as his figure shrank out of sight. I could still feel his lips against mine. What in the world am I feeling?

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blue--cup · 3 years

Text

Well Done Sweetface!

Ian had always tried to look out for Liam.

In fact, all of his eldest siblings did. With Liam being the baby of the family it was only natural they all took on more of a parental role with him.

When he was an actual baby, Fiona took the lead. She was the one who fed him his formula at odd hours of the night, took care of him at work when everyone else was at school, got him to an urgent care when he had a fever that just wouldn’t seem to break, and many many other tasks that weren’t, and shouldn’t have been her responsibility. Yes, Monica had been his mother biologically, but Fiona was his mum in every other way that mattered, just like she was to all her siblings in some way or another.

Lip always tried to look out for everybody . He, along with Ian, was for decades Fiona’s rock, he took Ian’s beating from Mickey when they were still all kids, he tried his best to not let Carl and Debbie get their hopes up that one time Frank seemingly got sober, and when Fiona went to jail he stepped up for Liam more than he ever had before. Lip cared a lot about his siblings, and he had done things for them most of the eldest brothers at his old college never would have dreamt of.

Now though, now things felt different.

Now Fiona was gone, finally, and deservedly living her life free from the chains of forced obligation to her family, finally living the life her parents had stolen from her at fourteen. He missed her, they all did, but Ian had meant it when he told her to never look back because for all the times he woke up in the morning craving her eggs, or thought about how every Gallagher blow-out felt just a little bit incomplete without her laughter filling the air, he was happy for her.

Now Lip had a kid and a house of his own. Yeah, they still saw him most days, but it wasn’t the same as when Ian was fifteen. For now, if asked to hang out instead of thinking about whatever scheme he had planned to help add to the squirrel fund, or whether or not Fiona would be home from in time to look after the youngest Gallaghers, Lip thought about Tammy and Fred. He still tried to look out for everyone, he still loved his siblings, but his kid came first, and that was okay.

Ian’s relationship with Liam had always felt unique to his relationships with the rest of his siblings. With Fiona and Lip he was their little brother, their best friend, their emotional support. Yeah, he’s protected them, cared for them, but he’s not parental towards him in the same way they are slightly towards him. Carl on the other hand is his little brother. He roughhouses with him, takes the piss out of him, let’s him do shit he knows Fiona would at least shoot a disapproving glare at if not prohibit entirely. And with Debbie, that’s his baby sister, even if she hasn’t acted like it in a long-ass while.

Liam though? Well, he’s not Ian’s kid , but he’s not fully just his little brother either. When Carl started smoking Ian barely batted an eye because what was he going to do? Tell Carl to stop while his own pack burned a hole in his pocket? Fuck no, but if Liam lit a fag on their way to school Ian knows he wouldn’t think twice before plucking it out of his hand, much in the same way Lip would if it was Freddie, or Debbie if it was Franny.

So while no, Liam wasn’t really Ian’s kid - he’d cringe if Liam ever called him ‘dad’, much like when Fiona used to grimace upon being called ‘mama’ - but he still kind of was in some respects, in a lot of the ways that mattered . Especially now, with things being different, because now Ian was the only eldest sibling left really. Or not left, but still able to give Liam the care he needs.

That’s why, Ian guessed, he and Mickey took Liam in.

After the house was sold and they got their fair share Ian and Mickey moved into a two-bedroom, middle floor flat, and barely discussed it before asking Liam to come with them. Ian had been so sure Mickey would protest because while he knew his husband loved the Gallaghers as his own taking on a kid barely a year into being newlyweds would’ve thrown anyone. Ian had been pleasantly surprised, however, because the night after the sale was finalised Mickey looked over at him from their bed and casually stated “so Liam’s coming with us, right?”

No “do we really have to?” No “can’t he just go to Fiona?” Just a statement of fact, and Ian’s still shocked neither of them chipped a tooth with how hard he kissed Mickey in gratitude and excitement.

“Hey, earth to Ian” came Mickey’s voice from his left, jarring him out of his thoughts. He looked over at his husband, who was resting the hand holding his beer on one knee while he waved his other in front of Ian’s face, a goofy smile plastering his own.

“Spaced out on me there” Mickey continued, resting the hand he had been waving on the backrest, grazing the back of Ian’s neck.

Ian shifted, and threw an easy smile back at Mickey “sorry, just thinking.”

“Yeah?” Mickey replied, and rustled the slightly overgrown hair at the back of Ian’s head - he’d have to ask Mick to cut it again soon - “what about?”

“Ah just, happy we ended up here, you know,” Ian answered, smiling when he saw Mickey’s teasing expression morph naturally into something softer, more adoring. He breathed a short laugh thinking about how much 15-year-old Ian would have killed to see the image before him, the one he gets to enjoy every single day.

“And-” Ian added, cutting himself off to shift closer to Mickey and pull his arm around Ian’s shoulders, “-I’m glad we’re able to give Liam the home he deserves.”

At that, Mickey’s smile widened, and turned full-on loving, before he ducked his head shyly. When he looked back up, he mumbled out a “god you’re soft,” before muffling Ian’s giggles with a kiss, humming when Ian’s hand automatically came up to cradle his face.

At that moment, the door swung open, and the sound of Liam’s backpack being carelessly dropped to the ground boomed through the small flat. Ian pulled back first and kissed Mickey’s cheek consolingly when he grumbled about it.

“Guys, guess what!” Liam called, as he came into view of the couple, a piece of paper with red ink at the top being waved about in his hand.

“What’s up buddy?” Mickey asked, hand dropping to Ian’s right shoulder after Ian turned around to face Liam.

“I said guess ” Liam retorted, grinning cheekily and pressing the paper to his chest, hiding it from view.

“Fuck off, this isn’t one of your pop quizzes, what are you holding?” Mickey complained, his grin undercutting the edge he tried to inject into his voice.

“Well,” Liam began, theatrically, dropping onto the couch next to Ian, who tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the apparently extremely important paper from Liam’s arms. “You know that paper I was up all night writing?”

“I think the one we spent all night sitting up waiting for you to finish” Ian laughed, throwing an arm around Liam and shaking him playfully.

“Please, you and Mickey were asleep on this couch for most of it” Liam shot back, shoving Ian’s thigh in revenge.

“Come on, come on, cut to the chase” Mickey groused, looking annoyed but Ian knew he was just as excited to hear what Liam had to say as Liam was to say it.

Liam just smiled, an air of self-confidence filling his small body, and silently presented the paper to the anticipating Ian and Mickey.

“An A+!” Ian half-shouted, before handing the paper to a stunned Mickey and getting on his feet so he could pick up Liam and spin him around.

“Well done Sweetface!” Ian cried out over Liam’s giggles, before stilling and giving him a quick kiss on the nose, causing Liam to scrunch his face up and beam.

“Thanks, my teacher said it’s my best yet” Liam bragged, clearly satisfied with himself.

“You hear that Mick? Says it’s his best yet” Ian boasts, bouncing Liam once before setting him back down.

He turned back to his husband, who was looking at the paper with the biggest look of pride Ian had ever seen. As if he could feel Ian’s eyes gazing down on him he snapped his head up, and announced “I think this deserves a spot on the fridge.”

“Fuck yes it does!” Ian agreed and turned back to Liam as Mickey hurried to the kitchen to hang it up, “I also think this deserves ice cream.”

“Fuck yeah!” Liam exclaimed, almost jumping into Ian’s arms for a tight hug. Ian squeezed back just as tight, ruffling his hair as he did.

When they parted Liam smirked and asked “do you guys really need to act like this every time I get a good grade? The fridge door is looking pretty full.”

“Well then we’ll get a bigger fridge,” Mickey said, coming back into the room and grabbing his keys from a bowl on the coffee table.

“And besides, I don’t see you complaining” Ian pointed out, pushing Liam gently towards the door. Liam wasn’t wrong, it was getting difficult to open the fridge door, but the happiness he felt seeing his baby brother’s achievements was just too much to give up for a little extra convenience.

“Yeah well, who would complain about ice cream?” Liam replied, half running towards the door he had just come through.

Ian felt a warm hand drop onto his shoulder, and he craned his neck slightly to look at Mickey, who just looked at him with that special look only Ian ever got to see and said “I get what you were saying, about being happy we ended up here, that Liam’s here too.”

Ian grinned so wide it hurt, and slid his arms around his husband’s neck, pulling him in for what was possibly the sweetest kiss of his life.

“Guys come on, you can make out later!” Liam called from the door, and now it was Ian’s turn to grumble at the interruption.

“Come on Sweetface,” Mickey said, kissing Ian’s nose in a sweet imitation of what Ian had done to Liam, “we’ve got ice cream to eat.”

#gallavich #ficlet #fic #fanfic #shameless #fluff #gallavich ficlet #ian x mickey #liam gallagher #malewifeian made me do it okay

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jaybear1701 · 3 years

Link

The Outpost is, without a shred of doubt, a shithole.

And Ellen Waverly secretly loves it, even though her fellow ASCANs frown at the tavern’s dilapidated exterior. Anybody who’s anybody knows about the dive bar frequented by astronauts, engineers, and other NASA staffers. Spoken about with hushed reverence, the Outpost is hallowed ground, a right of passage, and a frisson of excitement courses through Ellen as they pause just outside its entrance.

“This is it?” Dani Poole eyes the peeling red paint of the watering hole’s sign, uncertainty lacing her voice as she clutches the strap of her purse.

“Yep.” Molly Cobb lights a cigarette dangling from the corner of her lips. She pulls the door open, hinges squeaking, and the odor of cheap beer and stale smoke wafts out. “You gonna stand out here gaping all night?” Molly strides in without waiting for a response. Patty Doyle’s right on her heels, as usual.

Neither bothers to check if the others are following, but Tracy Stevens manages to catch the door before it swings shut again. “Let’s go, ladies.” She ushers the others inside. “Can’t let Cobb and Doyle have all the fun.”

The stench, now mingled with sweat and other odors barely concealed by fading cologne, intensifies the second Ellen sets foot inside the dimly lit bar. She wrinkles her nose and, as her eyes adjust, they walk past a beat up cigarette machine into a tightly packed space where all eyes immediately fall on them. Ellen thinks she recognizes some of the men from around the halls of JSC, but in all honesty they blended together in a uniform mass of white oxfords, skinny black ties, and thinly veiled disapproval. They were all just waiting for them to fail.

“Same shit, different toilet,” Molly mutters under her breath. Still, she throws her head back high, cocksure, and swaggers toward a pool table with Patty. Her heavy boot steps draw even more attention, not that Molly pays it any mind, acting as if she’s frequented The Outpost all her life. Like she belongs there.

Ellen does her best to follow Molly’s cue, straightening her spine and making her way around a jukebox that’s seen better days to the last empty table. “First round’s on me,” she announces, surprising even herself.

“That’s mighty generous,” Dani says as she and the others take their seats. The legs of their chairs scrape across the slightly sticky wood floor. They all pretend they don’t see the little brown insects that scatter from beneath the table.

“What would you like?” Ellen asks before any of them decide to hightail it outta there.

“Round of JD,” Tracy responds. “Least that’s what Gordo has when he’s here. If that’s all right with y’all, of course,” she adds to murmurs of assent.

“Coming right up.” Ellen beelines for the bar, continuing to ignore the stares from around the room that make the tips of her ears burn despite her carefully curated air of indifference.

She manages to find a small opening between the occupied, but is disappointed when no one’s there to serve drinks. The bartender probably took a quick break, she thinks, focusing her attention on the black-and-white astronaut photos that line the wood-paneled walls. Idly drumming her fingers against distressed mahogany, she wonders if her picture would ever be prominently displayed alongside the likes of Armstrong, Glenn, and Aldrin. Of if she’ll wash out, as her mother seems to be expecting.

An unsubtle cough interrupts Ellen’s musings, and a man leans an elbow on the bar to her left, a little too close for comfort.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a place like this?” He slurs out the oh-so-creative pickup line, alcohol sharp on his breath.

It takes all of her willpower not to roll her eyes in disgust. Instead, she pretends not to hear him, but he persists. “Never seen ya before. Y’all tourists or somethin’? Sightseein’?”

Irritation spikes in Ellen, who has half a mind to correct him, nondisclosure agreements be damned, when another voice cuts in. “Jimbo, what’d I tell you about scaring new customers?”

Ellen turns her head to the right and… Oh.

She’s not quite sure what she expected when it came to The Outpost’s barkeep. Based on the decor, she wouldn’t have been surprised by someone schlubby and indifferent and borderline antisocial. But Ellen most certainly isn’t expecting one of the prettiest women she’s ever seen, with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a careless ponytail, bangs hanging just above eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. And just like that, Ellen’s starting to understand the appeal of the place.

“C’mon now, Pam,” Jimbo drawls, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Jus’ tryin’ to be friendly.”

“Uh huh.” Pam cants her head to the side, unconvinced. “Get outta here before I call your wife.” After he slinks away, Pam gives Ellen an easy smile, bracing her hands on the bar. “Sorry ‘bout that. What can I get for you?”

It’s not until Pam’s closer that Ellen remembers to breathe, the influx of oxygen allowing her to regain control of her faculties and notice the pin fastened to Pam’s maroon t-shirt. It reads in bold white letters against a black background bespeckled by stars: A Woman’s Place Is In Space.

Ellen’s stomach swoops in delight.

“You okay?” Pam asks when Ellen doesn’t answer right away.

“Oh, er,” Ellen intelligently answers in a manner befitting a future astronaut. “Yes, sorry.” Heat rises in her cheeks. “Drinks?” She vaguely gestures toward the other candidates, and the pool table where Molly’s lining up a shot that sends a striped ball straight into a corner pocket. “For me. And my…” Her what? They aren’t exactly friends. Rivals would be closer to the truth, but that would sound weird. And she’s already being weird. She eventually settles on, “Colleagues.”

“Drinks,” Pam repeats, eyebrows disappearing beneath her fringe.

“Yes, um, please.”

“Sure thing.” Pam nods, thoughtfully observing the other women for a moment before fixing her gaze back on Ellen. “Got something particular in mind? Or should I surprise you?”

Ellen somehow manages not to smack the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Sorry. Jack Daniels for, uh, seven.”

“You got it, space cadet.” With a wink, Pam pushes off the bar to fetch a set of lowball glasses and arranges them in a neat row.

It takes a few seconds before Pam’s words catch up with Ellen. Was Pam referring to Ellen’s embarrassingly delayed response or… “Space cadet?”

“You all are the female astronaut candidates, aren’t you?” Pam reaches past several rows of bottles to fetch the whiskey.

“What, uh, what makes you think that?” Ellen nervously brushes her hair behind her ear. No one’s supposed to know who they are until they graduate. If they graduate.

Pam shrugs, the tip of the bottle’s spout poised above the glasses. “Groups of women don’t really wander in here. Plus, some of you match the scuttlebutt I’ve heard here and there.”

“Scuttlebutt?”

“NASA types like to talk, especially after they’ve had a few.”

“That’s… not unsettling in the slightest.” Ellen tries and fails to tamp down a swell of unease, wondering if they’d all be bounced from the program if word got out.

“Relax.” Pam chuckles, as if reading her mind. She tips the bottle forward, expertly eyeballing two fingers of brown liquor per glass. “What’s said here stays here. Unless you’re a reporter, then I’m sworn under our unofficial Baldwin rule to kick you out.”

“Definitely not a reporter,” Ellen says, recalling Ed Baldwin’s very public misstep in calling out NASA after the Soviets landed on the moon last summer. Relief eases some of the tension between Ellen’s shoulders. She shifts from one foot to the other, curiosity getting the better of her. “So, what have they been saying? All good things, I’m guessing,” she jokes weakly, all too aware of the rampant sexism among many, if not most, of her male counterparts.

“They wouldn’t dare say anything negative within earshot of me.” Pam taps her equality button. “Would never get a drink otherwise.”

Ellen can’t stop herself from smiling as Pam finishes pouring, sets the bottle down, and crosses her arms.

“Let’s see, I’ve heard that two of them were in Mercury 13. Have chips on their shoulders.” Pam nods toward Molly and Patty playing pool. “I’m guessing they’re the ones over there acting like they own the place.” There’s an underlying current of respect in her voice as her line of sight drifts toward the lone table surrounded by women. “The blonde? I’d bet all my tips that she’s Tracy Stevens. Got those Hollywood looks that’d be Gordo’s type.”

Ellen has to admit she’s impressed. “And me?” She asks before she can stop herself.

Blue eyes darting across Ellen’s face, Pam appraises her in a way that sparks flutters against her ribs. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard about you, Ms...?”

“Waverly.” Ellen sticks her hand out. “Ellen Waverly.”

Pam grasps her hand, grip firm yet gentle, palm warm and smooth. “Nice to meet you, Ellen Waverly.”

“And you’re Pam.”

“That’s right.” Neither of them moves to let go. “Pam Horton.”

Another patron accidentally jostles Ellen’s shoulder and she immediately drops Pam’s hand. “Can I get a couple of beers, Pam?” He asks.

“Just a sec.” She says, transferring the whiskey glasses to a round serving tray.

“So, uh,” Ellen clears her throat as she reaches for her purse. “What do I owe you?” Pam waves her away. “First round’s on the house.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” Her smile is genuine, radiant. “It’s the least I can do for the first American women heading to space.”

Ellen ducks her head, pleased yet embarrassed. “We haven’t passed yet.”

Pam looks her straight in the eye, and says without hesitation, “You will.”

Warmth blooms inside Ellen’s chest from Pam’s sincerity. “I… thank you." She hopes her face isn't as red as it feels. "We’ll make it up to you.”

“Prove all the assholes out there wrong, and we’ll be square.” Pam pulls out two beer bottles, swiftly pops off their caps, and hands them to the man. She inclines her head toward the tray of Jack Daniels. “I’ll have these out to you in a jiffy.”

With one last nod, Ellen makes her way back to the table, heart pounding and already vowing to return to the shithole that wasn’t so shitty after all.

#ellen x pam #for all mankind #ellen waverly #pam horton #spacepoet #fam fic #famk fic

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Just Called to Say Hi... (JinKook)

✩ AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: jinkook (Jin x Jungkook)

✩ Genre/Universe: smut

✩ Rating: Explicit

✩ Tags: smut, phone sex, getting together, masturbation, dirty talk, PWP, toys, implied bottom Jungkook

✩ Summary: Jungkook has the dorm to himself and decides to take advantage. Then Jin calls.

✩ Word Count: ~1.6k

✩ A/N: This fic fills the square Free Space for @btsholidaybingo .This fic was inspired by the prompt: “I have a gigantic crush on you, and you called me while I was masturbating, and I didn’t stop.” from this post.

The moment that a member got the entire dorm to himself was rare.

Jungkook often wondered what the others did when they pulled the lucky card, so to speak. But in reality, it was probably the same thing he did. Kick back in their bed, watch a favorite adult film without headphones, and take their time. All day to himself, Jungkook planned on enjoying it. Most of his personal time was spent in rushed showers and quick ten or fifteen minutes of downtime before another member was banging on his door for whatever reason. So when one film turned into two, his plan to jerk of turned into edging, letting himself tease and savor the sweet build in his guts.

After a solid hour of teasing, the phone buzzed in Jungkook’s hand. When Jin’s name popped up on his screen, muting the high moans of the man in the film he’d been watching, Jungkook should have pressed decline. It was a stupid idea when it passed through his mind. But stupid ideas and stupidly horny often went together when Jungkook was involved, so he pressed accept, his right hand still grasping his lube covered cock. He tried to steady his breathing.

“Yeah?”

“JK, how’s it going?”

“G—Good,” Jungkook rubbed his thumb over his tip, sparks of pleasure curling his toes against the mattress. “Why’re you calling?”

“Just to say hi. I’m coming back to the dorm tonight, who else is around?”

“Nobody, just me.” Jungkook began to stroke his cock slowly, Jin’s soft voice a pleasant rumble. He’d had a crush on Jin for a solid seven years. More than once Jungkook had come to the fantasy of Jin fucking into him. This was a dream come true. Especially with how long he’d been teasing himself… Jin probably could have been reading him a recipe for broiled eels and scrambled eggs and he would have come hard enough to lose consciousness.

“I mean tonight, do you know who’ll be home?”

“Everyone but Taehyungie-hyung and Ho—Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook struggled to keep his voice steady. Jin’s voice in his ear was knotting his stomach to bits. “They’re staying with their family one… Oh, one more night.”

“You okay? You sound breathless.”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re not sick, are you? Where are you?”

“No, no. I feel fine. Just laying in bed.” Wishing your cock was buried inside me.

Jungkook barely bit back the moan at the image, his ass flexing around the thick plug up his ass.

“Laying in bed? What, you jerking off?” Jin teased, chuckling. Jungkook’s throat clicked.

“No!” He cried, a bit too sharply.

Jin remained silent a moment, and Jungkook struggled to match it. His cock throbbed in his grip and he gasped softly.

Jin chuckled, a low sound that shot spikes of arousal straight to Jungkook’s balls.

“You are.”

“I am not,” Jungkook muttered.

“I can hear you, JK. You’re jerking off. With me on the phone. Is it a voyeur thing? Wanna see if you won’t get caught?”

“No,” Jungkook whispered. Jin’s voice had dropped a few octaves, all humor gone. It had been replaced with something unfamiliar... And fucking sexy.

“No? Then maybe you want to jerk off to my voice. You wanna come hearing your hyung talk?”

“N—No...”

“Don’t lie. I know you’re squeezing it right now. You think I haven’t noticed your little crush? I thought it might fade... But it hasn’t, hm?”

“Hyung—“

“Don’t whine at me. I knew what you were doing the second you answered. I can hear it. You get that certain.. Tone. Are you playing with your cock, Jungkook?”

Jungkook whined, guilt and shame reddening his cheeks.

“Answer.”

“Yes… I’m sorry, hyung. It was wrong of me.”

“Squeeze your cock and moan for me, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook stared at the ceiling a moment, blinking dumbly. “Wh—What?”

“I said, squeeze your cock. Moan. I want to hear you. Now, Jungkook.”

Jungkook obeyed, his toes curling against the mattress. “Hyung—“ He shuddered, tugging gently at his aching cock.

“That’s it. Stroke it, baby. Pretend it’s me.”

Jungkook heard the distinct sound of a zipper and moaned. “Jin-hyung, please...”

“That’s right, JK, you’d beg just like that for my cock. I’m getting so hard. Fuck... I wanna use your gorgeous mouth. Would you like that?”

Jungkook whined, and Jin tsked. “Answer me. I’ll stop asking so nicely if you don’t.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“I’d make you look at me while I held your head down... I’d want you to swallow my whole cock, get it nice and wet. Need it wet for where I’d stick it next.”

Jungkook whined, bucking his hips against his fist as he jerked his cock. “Where?” He panted.

Jin moaned, a low, throaty sound that nearly had Jungkook coming right there. “Ever taken a cock up your ass, baby?”

“No!” Jungkook gasped.

“Do you want to? Wanna feel my cock slide into you? I bet you’re so tight... Have you ever played with your hole?”

“I have a plug in me right now, hyung... It’s not big enough... I want your cock,” Jungkook whispered, his own words making him flush a deep red.

“Take it out, nice and slow. And then put two fingers in.”

Jungkook obeyed, putting the phone on speaker near his head. He whined and moaned, trying to do his best to please Jin. He could hear the wet sounds of him jerking off, and couldn’t help but picture it, his cheeks flushed, lips parted...

“Jin-hyung!” Jungkook cried as he pressed two fingers into his hole.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on them now baby. If I was there that’s how I’d get you ready for me. Finger your sweet, tight hole. I’d suck your cock too. I know how thick you are, you could watch your hyung gag on it, oh god, Jungkook...”

“Hyung— Jin-hyung, I want it,” Jungkook moaned, listening to Jin pant and rasp on the other end of the line. “I’ll take your cock so well.”

“Wanna come in you. Fuck you so full you can’t hold another drop,” Jin’s voice was strained, his breath coming quicker. “Take your fingers out. Put the toy back in and make yourself come. Let me know how bad you need me to fuck you.”

Jungkook pushed the plug back in with a low moan. He began to stroke himself in earnest, babbling and moaning, pleading with Jin to fuck him hard, deep, bend him over the desk, against the wall.

Jin moaned back just as wantonly, promising everything Jungkook wanted and more. The sound of skin on skin added to the eroticism; Jin was jerking off to him... Jungkook’s face began to burn.

“‘M close—“

“Me too. God, I want to be inside you. Fuck, JK—“ Jin groaned, grunting rhythmically. Jungkook’s heart leapt. He was coming... Jungkook turned him on enough to come.

“M—May I come?” Jungkook panted.

“Come for your hyung,” Jin growled, his voice strained.

Jungkook gave his balls a gentle squeeze and stroked his cock a bit harder. He screamed Jin’s name when he came, his cock twitching as he spurted thick, hot ropes of come up his chest.

Jungkook’s body went limp with his afterglow, a small, dumb smirk on his face. Just as the reality of what happened hit him, Jin’s panting on the other end a reminder that no, it wasn’t a dream, a text came through. He opened it, gasping. It was Jin’s chest and thighs, his jeans barely visible mid-thigh. His cock was softening against his hip, his toned stomach painted with ropes of white.

“Take a picture,” Jin panted. Jungkook obeyed, his hands shaking as he struggled to get a good one. He sent it back, chewing his lip until Jin groaned.

“Jungkook...”

“Just called to say hi, huh?” Jungkook teased.

“I want you to shower and clean yourself. Inside and out.” Jin’s voice, despite breathless, was stern. “I’m coming home tonight... And I’m going to take you to dinner. And then I’m going to take you to a hotel.”

Jungkook swallowed audibly.

“And I’m going to make good on all those promises. Do you want that, Jungkook?”

“Yes— I do.”

“You want me to take your virginity?”

“Nobody but you.”

Jin chuckled. “I’ll see you in a few hours, baby... After you clean up... Wear that plug. I want you already loosened up for me. You’re gonna walk funny tomorrow, I’m promising that.”

Jungkook whined. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Jin laughed. “Good way to go out. I’ll see you soon.”

“You’re not mad?” Jungkook worried.

“Not at all. I’ve been trying to come up with an easy way to tell you I know about the crush and reciprocate it... This worked even better.”

Jungkook giggled. “I’d say. I’ll see you soon.”

“Right.” Jin hung up.

Jungkook laid still for a moment, replaying what had just happened. He’d had phone sex with his group mate... And now he had a date with him. He looked at the picture on his phone, his cock twitching and heart skipping a beat. He helped get Jin there. As he was staring, another text came through. Jungkook opened it, gaping at the picture.

It was a selfie, but Jin’s mouth was open, a trickle of come dribbling over his plump bottom lip. His fingers, wet and shiny, were visible, on his chin.

‘This should have been inside your pretty mouth or ass, Jungkookie. Don’t make me make that mistake again.’

Jungkook shifted, snapping a photo of his legs spread, silvery plug glinting in the light of the room.

‘Never. Right here for you to use… Any time you want, hyung. All the time.’

He sent it, reaching down and removing the plug before cleaning himself up. He had a date tonight… And he had a funny feeling it was going to be one of the best nights of his life.

#jinkook #thebtswritersclub #jinseoknet #boymeetsmxm #btsguild #seokjin x jungkook #jungkook x seokjin #jin x jungkook #mywriting #jungkook x jin #smut

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noonachronicles · 4 years

Text

The End of the F**king World Pt. 1

Byun Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Language. Violent imagery if you squint.

Genre: Apocalyptic/Alien Invasion AU. Slow Burn (ish?). One pining pup and one idiot in denial to eventual lovers.

A/N: I mean, idk, but do I ever? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Don’t forget to read the Prologue!

There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, which left the sun free to beat down on every inch of the city. Showering it completely in light. It was nice, the sun, especially when it had been mostly dark and rainy for weeks. Basking in the light of the sun this city looked like every other city in the world. Absolutely every other city.

Cement sidewalks and asphalt roads with their gaping holes from where bombs and missiles had landed. Skyrise buildings half destroyed by fires or from flooding. Windows covered in plywood, plywood riddled with bullet holes. Not a business in sight that hadn’t been ransacked. Nearly every inch of wall space and every abandoned or crashed vehicle was covered in spray paint. Messages of hope for survivors, warnings about certain spots in the city, brief apologies and goodbyes from those who just couldn’t do it anymore. Plants, weeds, grass, and flowers growing through cracks in cement. Overgrowth in certain places making the city look like a literal urban jungle.

Every major city in the world looked like this because every major city in the world got hit in exactly the same way. If not in the first wave then the second, and if not in the second then the third. And so on and so forth until they were all just empty shells of what they had once been.

The sound of your boots crunching against gravel and broken glass didn't even register to you any longer as you made your way down the empty street. Finally you found what you’d been looking for. A shop you’d noticed the other week but hadn’t had the chance to visit yet. The toy store was dark inside, left mostly untouched by looters except for the cash register. It had probably been busted open in the very beginning when people thought there would still be a use for money.

Old currency was rendered useless and the only survivors left now were the innovators, you thought to yourself as you peered through the window frame. It didn’t matter anymore what you had. Survival was about what you could do with what you found. The thought left you wondering how many people had walked past this shop without realizing its potential.

The storefront consisted of a three paneled window. Two of the panels had been smashed to nothing leaving an easy entrance into the store. The third window stood untouched, looking pristine. You rapped your knuckles against the completely intact glass and waited. It only took a couple of seconds. You could hear them before you saw them. A low hissing that sounded like getting the drool sucked out of your mouth at the dentists broke up with intermittent clicking. The sound either made your skin crawl in terror or it annoyed you. Today, luckily, it was just an annoyance more than anything else.

Grabbing the knife from the strap on your thigh, you focused in on the shadows of the aisles. There were two sets of four beady, silver eyes lurking in the dark. With a sigh you stepped through one of the broken windows and into the store. The hissing and clicking grew louder and more chaotic at your more obvious presence in the room. Resting the blade of your knife on your shoulder you made your aim. Then with a quick snap of your wrist the knife had shot through the air and projected into the shadows.

What happened next went fast, you knew it had to from your experience. As the first blade slipped from your fingers your hand had already dropped down to grab the second. The blade of the knife stuck between the four silver eyes and they went black. As the first grayish green, scaled beast fell forward into the light it’s counterpart opened its mouth wide to release a shrill shriek. The noise only pierced your ears briefly as you’d already thrown the second knife, the blade catching the beast in the throat. Those silver eyes drained to black as well and then it also fell forward into the light. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your small flashlight and clicked it on. Quickly, you scanned the other aisles of the store for other Lurkers. You were pleased to find none.

First things first. You moved over to the cash register and searched the shelves of the rounded counter. As to be expected it was mostly tiny plastic trinkets at eye level that children would have instantly fallen in love with and would offer one last minute, desperate plea for. You did eventually find what you were looking for. There on the bottom self seated between a box of rock hard tootsie rolls and several bags of gummy worms that looked like they’d melted during the summer heat and then cooled into a blobby swirl of sugary color. A jar of, likely expired, blow pops. Tearing off the lid you shoved your hand in to grab one. You unwrapped it quickly and shoved the candy between your cheek and teeth with a satisfied sigh.

With your sweet tooth satiated for now you bagged the rest of the suckers as well as a jar of jolly ranchers. Then you went to pull your knives from the Lurkers you’d left bleeding out onto the linoleum floor. Placing one foot against the head of the first Lurker you tugged at the handle of the knife until the blade was released with a nasty squelch. You gagged at the sound, for some reason that was always the worst part for you, and moved to the second. With both blades freed from their victims you stood up and looked around your immediate area. Thick, black, gooey blood dripped from the blades onto the floor with little splats. On the shelf next to you there was a display of stuffed kittens with big, pitiful eyes covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Sorry, buddy.” you said snatching one of the kittens and swiping your blades clean against the soft fur before tucking them back into their holster.

You walked the front part of the store first, making a mental inventory of what was there that you would consider usable. On the other side of the room there was a spinning display rack that had been completely stripped of its contents except for one single package of batteries. That’s what you’d come in for.

“Fuck.” you muttered and snatched the lone package from the rack and tore it open.

At least you could replace the batteries in your flashlight, which had been functioning on borrowed time.

Once your flashlight was back at full power you started to make your way down the aisles. Continuing to take more notes of inventory, you searched for something that would be useful now. Dragging your finger through the dirt on the shelves you passed left a cleared line in its wake. You’d found baby dolls, Barbie dolls, and more stuffed animals. Princess dresses and plastic jewelry. There was plastic, silver tiara on one shelf, with little plastic jewels. You grabbed it and placed it on your head before continuing on.

Basketballs, tennis rackets, and skateboards lined the next aisle. The one after that had action figures and puzzles. You took a mental note to let Baekhyun know about the rack of lightsabers. Though considering how much trouble he’d gotten in the last time he had one you’d have to save both of you the trouble and tell him when Chanyeol wasn’t around. By then you’d nearly given up on finding anything when you reached the back corner and saw exactly the kind of thing you were hoping for. An entire display of toddler toys, each box with a red sticker and bold white letters that read, Batteries Included!

“Oh, jackpot.” you grinned, dropping your backpack on the ground and getting to work.

The first few months after the invasion were the hardest. The stress from uncertainty had aged everyone a hundred years. The four of you had stayed in the safe room for four days before venturing out. It took four days of Baekhyun and Chanyeol watching the security cameras endlessly and listening to the random frequencies the radio would pick up, trying to learn what they could, before they felt confident enough to open the door. It ended up being lucky because the night they decided it was time, was the night the electricity shut off for good. None of you slept that night. You just sat with the flashlight in the center of the room and waited for what you’d hoped would be enough time for there to be daylight outside.

It had to be daylight. If nothing else the guys had confirmed that the creatures never came out during the day. There were hoards of them during the night hours but there was something about the light that made them sensitive. Baekhyun had a theory that there was something wrong with their eyes. He didn’t think they could see or if they could they couldn’t see very well. He felt confident that their strongest sense was their hearing. He ended up being correct, you’d found out after watching them a little longer.

In fact they ended up being relatively ineffective threats once you’d figured them out. They were easy to maneuver around as long as there weren’t too many. They were blind as bats and pretty easy to kill if you got them in any of their softer areas which turned out to be anywhere on their necks and the diamond shaped patch between their eyes. The unfortunate part was that if you found one there were more than likely a dozen more and that’s when you’d find trouble. One or two were easy to kill. Even three was doable for a select few of you, if you were on your own. If you ran into a pack or you ran into them at night however, you were done for. They became chaotic attackers when they had the support of a hoard behind them. Like wild, rabid dogs they would tear their victim to shreds in a minute or less. Which was why they still terrified you even after three years.

What you’d found when you walked out of the jewelry store on that fourth day was the complete destruction of everything you’d ever known. At that point almost everything still seemed to be on fire. Looters had come and gone, and were likely dead if they hadn’t gone into hiding in time. Buildings were still crumbling, sending debri crashing to the ground. Electricity was out everywhere but you did find that water was still running in some areas. You cried when you washed yourself for the first time in days. It wasn’t even anything nice. It was you in the bathroom of a coffee shop in your underwear, standing in front of the sink and wiping your body down with paper towels and hand soap. Still you cried. You’d cried a lot those first months, that whole first year really. You cried less these days.

Anywhere you walked you could see the creatures lurking in the dark, watching every move you made. Hissing, clicking and waiting for the sun to set. It’s why you’d all agreed they would be referred to as Lurkers, because that’s what they did. You didn’t go back to the jewelry store that night. You didn’t go back for more than a year. Instead the four of you collected food and what weapons you could before finding somewhere new and safe to stay. You did that every night for a week. You didn’t know exactly what Chanyeol and Baekhyun were looking for but you knew when they found it you could finally settle.

Hopping around from place to place is how you found Irene. She was a mess when you found her. Holed up in the corner of a broken cooler at a convenience store behind a barrier made out of boxes of beer. Trembling, sobbing, and dehydrated. It took hours for you to get her to even speak her name clearly. Later you found out her boyfriend had barricaded her in the cooler for her safety after he promised her he’d be back once he found his little brother. Then she watched him get torn apart by Lurkers through the cooler door while having to remain completely silent or risk being attacked herself. After that she joined your family, and the four of you became five.

As the days and weeks passed and you had become more comfortable and confident you started to explore the city. It was less for entertainment and done more so out of necessity. You needed supplies like food and weapons. The more you wandered and scavenged the more survivors you found. Groups of people like yours who’d been together since the invasion. As more people came out from their hiding spots obvious leaders showed themselves within your families, as your groups had been defined.

There were eight families and together you were the Community. The heads of each family met constantly in the beginning, trying to work out how best to work with one another and what they could offer each other. They all wanted to make sure that their families had everything they needed to survive without taking from any other families. In the end the city was separated into nine boroughs, a space for each family, each equal in square mileage. The ninth borough was the city center. All of the major arenas and theatres were there, all of the city's largest buildings. Underground parking lots at every corner. It was a hotbed for Lurkers. Entering any building was more than useless, it was a deathwish. Though it was safe enough to pass through during the day, so long as you stuck to the streets, by night it was wall to wall Lurkers.

During the first year the Community met once a day after scavanges and doled out supplies. Each family took only what they needed and then the rest was stored by the original scavenger. After the first year half of the survivors were gone. Mostly loss came from accidents or illness. Things that happened that required a doctor, a doctor that you didn’t have. However on the rare occasion someone would walk outside in the middle of the night and scream at the top of their lungs.

Nobody thought them cowardly. It wasn’t an easy life, there was nothing desirable about it. You weren’t even sure where your own will to survive was coming from. It hadn’t been as if there was an expiration date on Lurkers. There was no timeframe for when this would be over. No ETA of your old life getting back to you. No visible end to the invasion. Still you woke up every day and you tried. When you went to bed you went to bed with every expectation of doing it again the next day.

After the first year the Community had become a well oiled machine. Everything had been so well organized. And there were so few people that supplies started to last longer and there was less of a need to meet up everyday. Now the whole Community only came together once a week for a check in. This week's meeting happened to be today.

Once you’d broken apart every toddler toy in the store and collected their batteries, you found a manager's office in the back. You sat down in the pleather chair and pulled your walkman out of your backpack, replacing the batteries that had been dead for a couple days. Having the sound of music flowing through you brought you a sense of joy and content that you couldn’t explain. It was the only thing you’d found since the invasion that could bring you any sort of content or calm. Without it your brain was constantly running a thousand miles a minute with worry and anxiety. You weren’t sure what you’d do when the city stopped providing you with AA batteries.

As the music played you twirled around in the desk chair a few times with a yawn, before deciding to check the room for supplies. There wasn’t too much, a couple things here and there, but in the bottom drawer of the desk you found five of the little airplane sized bottles of whiskey and a dusty, water warped copy of 50 Shades of Grey. After downing two of the little bottles you’d kicked your feet up on the desk and flipped open the book. Then, with a pretty good buzz brewing, you read aloud to an audience of two dolls, a stuffed monkey and three Batman figurines sitting on top of a file cabinet. The next thing you knew you’d amused yourself to tears and were late to the meeting.

Luckily you weren’t too far from the amphitheater where the meetings were held, just a handful of blocks away. You’d even tried to sprint it but were embarrassed to realize that the little amount of alcohol you’d had left you in less than peak condition. In all fairness it had been a while since you’d really had a drink. It had been a long while since anyone had indulged in a drink really. In the first few months a lot of people drank heavily as a way to cope and to avoid thinking about the reality of the situation. Reckless, unchecked drinking unfortunately led to a lot of accidents and those accidents led to the deaths of several people. There had been one night when a member of one of the bigger families drank half a bottle of tequila and didn’t close the door to their shelter well enough. That night twenty people were lost. After that it was rare for people to drink, it was even rarer for them to get drunk.

The meeting had already started when you’d arrived. You could hear Chanyeol’s voice from outside the amphitheater as you stopped to catch your breath. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a ticket booth window, you realized you were still wearing the toy tiara you’d found. Spitting the gum from your blow pop into some grass, you pulled the tiara from your head and shoved it in a trash can near the entrance.

Everyone was already there, which wasn’t a surprise but it was still embarrassing when they realized you’d just come in. Every head turned to look at you. Chanyeol, Hyunwoo, Jihyo, Taeyong, Solar, Hongjoon, Hanbin, and Seungcheol all sat in the center as the representatives of their families, silently watching as you made your way towards the group. You avoided eye contact with Chanyeol at all costs, ducking your head as you made your way to your usual spot next to Seulgi.

“You’re late.” she whispered as Taeyong continued with what it was he’d been saying in reply to Chanyeol.

“Obviously…” you whispered back, she pinched your side until you flinched, “Did I miss anything?”

She shook her head no and you both turned your attention to Chanyeol who had stood again to speak.

“General census has been that all families are low on food and the map doesn’t look great either, we’ve almost scavenged the entire limits of the city with the exception of the red zone. All food source locations are near depleted in zones with larger families, the others are getting close as well. Next week each family will send two members to the Farm for supplies and fresh food. Heads have been discussing that we need to put more focus on our own gardens around the city. We’ll be changing priorities from scavenging to gardening and livestock. The few of us who will continue to scavenge will need to...will need to start moving outside of the city.”

Unease ran through the group, and there was a steady hum of murmurs. Leaving the city limits was a nerve wracking suggestion because no one in the Community had left the city since the first wave. No one knew how things were out there. And of the very few people who had gone to scope it out, no one had ever returned. The only place the Community went that was outside of the city limits was the Farm.

The Farm was a huge compound on a stretch of farmland where an actual family had taken up residence. They had well stocked food storage, thriving gardens, and hoards of livestock. It was also protected under a massive security system. The family who lived on the Farm had come into the city not realizing it was occupied. When they found the Community and what you had to offer, they made a deal . They would exchange fresh fruits and vegetables, and eggs and meat from the livestock where they could spare it for fresh water which was the only thing they couldn’t seem to get steady access to. So twice a month the Community would send a group to collect the food supplies and drop off a water truck with a full tank.

Once the group had settled down after Chanyeol’s announcement there were still a few topics to discuss before the meeting was over. The end of the meeting really only meant that it was time for the group to break off into smaller cliques for further discussions and gossip.

“What if they don’t accept the water after the rain? That was a long stretch, they may not need it. What are we going to do without food?” You heard Sehun say as everyone talked over one another.

You’d actually been pretty interested in listening in on that conversation but Chanyeol had sat down beside you. “You were late.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Yeol.” you looked up at him with your most convincingly innocent smile which only made him laugh.

“You know I worry. And worse, you know I had to hear about it endlessly from Baek.” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Nodding you pulled one of the suckers from your jacket pocket and offered it to him. “I got caught up and lost track of time. I’m sorry I made you worry. Forgive me?”

He already had the sucker unwrapped and stuck in his cheek when he nodded, “Forgiven. Just don’t be late back home. I don’t need you getting locked out.”

He patted the top of your head as he stood and you watched him take off. Seulgi who was talking in a group a little ways away saw him leaving and ditched her friends to chase after him. You frowned as you watched. It had turned out that they hadn’t been dating before the invasion like you thought. They’d definitely shared some pretty deep feelings for each other, but neither one had the nerve to make any moves. The invasion and imminent threat of death had apparently been the kick in the ass they’d needed to confess their feelings to each other. Still, of everything that had happened over the last few years the one thing you couldn't wrap your head around was people getting attached to each other. You just couldn’t understand falling in love.

Over the last three years the Community had lost so many people from death and disappearance. You had lost so many people. All your friends and family from before the first wave were just gone. Any family and all of your other friends. They were all dead as far as you knew. You would never get to say goodbye, never get to tell them how much you loved them. The hardest out of all of them to get over was Siwon. Things weren’t always perfect between the two of you but you’d been together for five years. As far as you had been concerned he’d been it for you. You’d been ready to spend the rest of your life with him, if he’d ever gotten the chance to ask you to. You’d imagined a future with him, buying a house and starting a family. Then in one day you had it all ripped away from you and the pain of it had been unbearable. You didn’t have a future, you didn’t have love. You didn’t even want it anymore. All you had and all you needed was to survive.

You couldn’t see the appeal of falling in love with someone who could be torn from you at any moment. Or intentionally putting yourself through the eventual pain of loss. You didn’t even like that you had to worry about losing Seulgi. The chance of risk versus the low reward just didn’t seem worth it to you. However, Seulgi was happy and as much as you didn’t understand giving your love to anyone anymore, you were happy for her. She was happy. She had a reason to keep going, and that’s all you could really ask for her or anyone else for that matter.

Throwing your backpack over your shoulder you waved goodbye to the others that were left and took off back up the stairs alone. Outside of the amphitheater you saw Hyunwoo chatting with Hanbin and Baekho, while Taemin and Jongin waited nearby. When he saw you Hyunwoo smiled and said something to the others before hurrying over to where you had been walking.

“Hey,” he said, catching up to you.

“Hi.” you grinned.

“Hold up a second, I have something for you.” he said, grabbing your elbow.

You stopped walking and turned towards him, “For me? Why?”

“You know why.” he smirked. He moved closer to you so there was hardly any space between your bodies. One of his hands reached into his jacket and he pulled out a small, square, gold box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. “I know you didn’t want a big deal made out of your birthday, but I had to at least get you something.”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.” you assured him, turning the box over in your hands.

“Fine. I wanted to get you something.” he corrected, “Will you just open it?”

You tugged the ribbon from the box and lifted the lid. A tiny gasp escaped your mouth at the sight in front of you. “Hyunwoo…”

“It’s expired, but only by a few months.”

Your eyes had filled with tears so quickly you couldn’t stop the single tear from slipping down your cheek. “It’s so beautiful. I love it. Thank you so much.”

He grinned as you pulled the chocolate bar from the box. “Don’t share it with anyone, okay?”

“Oh don’t worry, I will not be sharing with anyone. Not even you so don’t ask.” you laughed and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. “Thank you so much. Seriously, it means the world that you would give this to me.”

“You mean the world to me.” he said quietly squeezing you back, and then he pulled away, “To us. You mean the world to all of us. You’re always doing so much for the whole Community, my two idiots especially.”

You were grateful for the excuse to look away from him, to look over at Taemin and Jongin as your cheeks burned with a blush. “It’s nothing. You know I love them.”

“Alright.” he cleared his throat and looked over at the still waiting Taemin, Jongin duo. “Get home safe tonight. I have to get the kids home for dinner.”

“You be safe too Hyunwoo, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tucking your gift into the pocket of your backpack you smiled to yourself. Maybe...maybe you could see yourself with someone like Hyunwoo. You’d seen him in action, you knew he could handle himself well in a fight. He didn’t need to be protected or taken care of. You wouldn’t need to feel responsible for him all the time or to worry about him too much. Plus he was a sweetheart and absolutely gorgeous, which never hurt.

“What was that about?”

Pulled from the thought you looked up to see Baekhyun. He was sitting on a short, brick wall. His feet dangled from side to side as he chewed anxiously on his thumbnail.

“What was what about?” you asked as he hopped off the wall and fell in line with you as you walked.

“Whatever just happened between you and Hyunwoo.” He was trying to be casual about the conversation but you could feel the energy vibrating off of him.

You sighed, “Nothing, Baek. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you guys like together? You never said anything. Are you going to leave us? Are you going to stay with his family now? It’s just guys over there, you know? What about Seulgi? Does she know? She’ll be really upset.” he rambled nervously.

“No, Baek,” you chuckled, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not dating anyone.”

“What did he say? It looked like he gave you something. What were you hugging him for?”

“Baekhyun!” You growled looking over at him with wide eyes, “Breathe. Calm down. Christ.”

He did as he was told and shut his mouth. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m chill. You still didn’t answer any of my questions.”

“Well you asked about twenty all at once…” you said sarcastically and looked over at him and his big sad eyes. “Fine.”

Pulling your backpack around to your chest you pulled the chocolate bar from your bag and handed it over to him. He grabbed the candy and flipped it over in his hands.

“Shit. This is like ...European chocolate.” he said in awe, “This is the good shit. I haven’t seen stuff this nice in…”

“Months.” you said quietly.

“At least.” He handed the bar back to you, “God, what did he do? Ask you to marry him with that thing?”

You laughed as you put it back in the bag and then swung the bag back over your shoulders. “No. It was just a gift.”

“A gift? What for?” he asked, kicking a chunk of cement off the sidewalk.

Baekhyun wasn’t going to let it go. You’d spent enough time with him to know that about him. Taking a quick look around the street to make sure there was no one nearby you said as quietly as you could manage without whispering. “It’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday?” he shouted, his voice echoing against the towering buildings that surrounded.

“Shhh.” you hissed.

“Why? It’s really your birthday?” He asked looking wounded, “You didn’t say anything.”

“It’s not a big deal, I don’t want anyone to know. So please...just shut up about it.”

“Hyunwoo knew. Did you tell him?”

You groaned, “Yes, but it had been by accident. He wasn’t supposed to find out.”

Still he looked upset, “I’m sorry I didn’t know. I would have gotten you something.”

You rolled your eyes subtly. “It’s fine, Baek. I swear it’s fine. I didn’t want anything, that’s why I didn’t tell anyone.”

“No, I should have known already. I should have remembered from before.”

“I’m honestly glad you didn’t.”

“I just wish there was time for me to find you a good gift. I feel like a real jerk.” He sighed, “And Hyunwoo got you chocolate? Damn.”

“I promise you, it’s okay.” You assured him once more as he trudged dramatically down the sidewalk beside you.

Suddenly he lit up with a smile, “What about a joke? Can I tell you a joke? Have you had a really good laugh today?”

You grinned. Secretly you’d become pretty fond of his daily jokes. “That sounds like the perfect gift.”

“Okay…” you watched as his face turned quite serious while he thought of the best joke. “Got it. What do you call bees that produce milk?”

“I don’t know. What do you call them?” You couldn’t help your half smile at the fact that he was already chuckling at his own joke.

“Boo-BEES.” He said with the biggest, cheesiest smile.

The laugh came even if the joke was terrible. A real shoulder shaking, teeth out laugh.

“Oh my god, I hate you so much.” You continued laughing and he just smiled back at you.

“Good. I love you too.” He said, the same way he always did when you told him you hated him. “Happy birthday, Y/n.”

You blushed, the tiniest of blushes. “Thanks, Baek.”

“You’re welcome.” He sighed happily. Pleased, you assumed, that his joke had gone over so well. After that the rest of the walk back was comfortably quiet.

Cordially was a club downtown, or it had been before the invasion. It had been made wildly popular by its exclusivity. It was the only by-invitation-only club you knew of. They would hand deliver invitations every week. White cardstock with red embossment that red simply, ‘You are cordially invited”. Then on the back it either said Friday or Saturday to indicate what day your invitation was for. For a monetary fee an invitee could bring up to ten plus ones. The add-ons were where they really made their money. That and of course the alcohol.

The building was on the corner of tenth and main, which was the most popular area for high end restaurants and bars. It was a two story building that had been built originally for use as a concert hall. It had housed operas, plays, and musicals. Then it had shut down for a couple of years and came back renovated into a burlesque club. After that it became a venue for punk shows. For awhile after that it was a gay bar that played venue to drag shows. And in its final form it was Cordially.

Immediately upon walking into the building occupants would find themselves in what appeared to be one big empty hall. On one side of the empty, dust covered hardwood floor there was a short hallway that led to two restrooms and an office. The big empty space had previously been the dance floor. Along the back wall was a bar and on the other side of the dance floor, opposite the restrooms, was a staircase. Upstairs was a horseshoe balcony. There were two more restrooms, a half bar, and private alcoves that had been reserved for vip invitees who’d paid major money for the privilege. None of that was why the Cordially was so important to you. It was important because, technically, its final form was home.

“Honey I’m home!” Baekhyun shouted as you walked in through the main entrance. “Oh, I forgot...I don’t have a Honey.”

“Is everyone else here?” you asked, ignoring his comment, as you looked outside one last time as the sun set on your birthday.

He looked over at the dusty bar top where five shot glasses had been placed. Three were upside down, two were still rightside up. “Yep. everyone is accounted for.”

With a sigh you let the door close while you grabbed the two by four leaning against the wall. You slide the wood through the door handles, and secured the locks at the top and the bottom of the door, and as a last step unhooked the blackout curtains Chanyeol had installed. The room was still lit with the orange glow of sun through windows that lined the second floor. Moving passed the bar as he whistled a tune, Baekhyun flipped over the remaining two shot glasses. He stopped at the door on the farside of the bar and held it open as he waited for you.

“Thanks.” you said quietly before moving passed him and making your way downstairs to the dark basement.

“Anything for the birthday girl…” he muttered to himself as he shut and secured the door.

“Uh...Baek.” you said stepping cautiously down into the unusually pitch black room. “I thought you said everyone was here?”

“The glasses were flipped. Is there no one down there?” he asked as you felt him step behind you.

“No, everything is off and I can‘t see shit.” you complained, searching your pockets for your flashlight.

“Huh...so weird.” Baekhyun said flicking on his flashlight and illuminating the wall switch. “Hit the lights.”

Flipping the switch up illuminated the bright, white christmas lights that had been strung all across the basement ceiling. The room had also been decorated with streamers and balloons. Chanyeol, Seulgi, and Irene all stood in the center of the room sporting paper party hats and cheerful smiles. They’d been popping poppers and shouting happy birthday, but you could barely register it through your haze of emotion.

Baekhyun had come around you and put a cheap, cheesy sash that said Birthday Princess over your head along with a tiara on top of it. Chanyeol lit candles that had been stuck into the top of a stack of just-add water pancakes that had rainbow sprinkles mixed in. After a moment of genuine shock you realized they’d been singing the birthday song to you and were now waiting for you to make your wish.

I wish I was this happy all the time. You thought to yourself before blowing out the candles.

“I-” you chuckled lightly, “I’m speechless.”

“Do you love it?” Irene asked hopefully, “I know you don’t like to make a big fuss about this kind of stuff. I worried it would be too much.”

“Oh, no! I love it! Thank you,” you said giving her a hug and then giving one to Seulgi too, “I don’t deserve all this.”

“That’s not true.” Chanyeol said wrapping you in a tight hug before guiding you over to the couch where a large pile of gifts were waiting. “You deserve more.”

“Do you like your cake?” Seulgi asked, sitting down on the cushion next to you. “Isn’t it cute?”

You smiled reassuringly, “I really love everything. I swear. It’s perfect.”

“I made it, the cake, but it was Baek’s idea.” When you looked over at him he was leaning against one of the surveillance desks. His cheeks were a little flush as he smiled over at you. “It was actually all his idea. He did most of the planning and the work, but we all helped out a little here and there.”

“You really thought I forgot, didn’t you?” he asked, looking so proud of himself. It was only then you realized he’d been the one that had remembered the last two years. Of course it had all been a show. Baekhyun didn’t forget anything. “Oh man, I really got you so good.”

“Open my present first! It’s the best one!” Irene said with a grin as she shoved a flat, wrapped box into your lap.

After you opened it you laughed immediately and then pulled the diamond chandelier necklace from the box. It had been a running joke between the two of you over the past few years. Whenever a gift giving holiday rolled around the two of you exchanged frivolous gifts. Grossly expensive things that were useless at the end of the world.

“I...It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to have some fantastic event to wear this to. Thank you, Irene.” you grinned.

“I got it at that jewelry store on third street if you want to return it. The receipts at the bottom of the box.” she smirked, “But you should know it was twenty thousand dollars, and I think it’s going to look fantastic on you. You should wear it every day because every day we’re alive is a fantastic event.”

Seulgi’s gift was next. She dragged over a tall box that was wrapped up to look like a gift bag, and that was clearly very heavy. When you pulled the tissue paper from the top of the box you revealed no less than thirty bottles of your favorite shampoo.

“So,” she started, “I have spent the last six months during scavenges looking for this shampoo. I took every bottle from every store in the city that had any. Cherish them, they are probably the last bottles we will ever lay eyes on.”

“I love you, Seul.” you said as you wiped your cheek of it’s tears.

“Love you too, bestie.” She said squeezing you tight, feeling quite pleased.

“Alright, that’s enough of the lame gifts.” Chanyeol said, reaching over Seulgi’s lap to hand you his gift. “I hope you’re ready for a real gift, Y/n. Something actually useful and still very fun.”

“Shampoo is useful!” Seulgi said, pinching his arm, “Dick.”

You laughed at the two of them as they bickered and unwrapped his gift. It really did take your breath away when you opened the package. “Yeol...oh my god.”

“You know I don’t know anything about knives.” he said as you pulled one of the shiny silver blades from its sheath. “Sehun helped me. He promised they were the best knives in the whole city. He said you’d really love them.”

“They’re so beautiful, Yeol. Really, I’m...I’m so happy.” you sniffled as you tucked the knives back in the box, “I can’t even tell you how much I’m looking forward to being able to use them.”

“And!” Irene said enthusiastically, “We’re all giving up our wash time tonight, so it’s all yours.”

Cordially was one of the buildings in the city that still offered running water. The problem was that it was such an old building that too much use throughout the day caused the ancient pipes to groan and when they did it was less than quiet. The five of you learned early on that there was a certain length of time that the water could be used after dark without attracting Lurkers with the noise. That time was divided and a bit of time was allotted to each of you for any night time activities like cleaning up after a long day or even using the toilet.

“No.” you argued, “That’s too much.”

“Yes!” Seulgi said, shooting you a terrifying glare, “Take extra care with the shampoo I worked so hard to get you. Rinse and repeat, for once.”

“It really is too much.” you groaned.

“Just let me know before you want to go, Y/n.” Baekhyun said, and you realized he’d been unusually quiet this whole time. “There’s just one more surprise.”

The group refused to listen to your complaints about wash time so you let it go. Instead you all indulged in your pancake cake and talked about your days. After a couple hours had passed you had to switch from the beautiful lights overhead to your regular LED lanterns so that Chanyeol could turn the computers and surveillance equipment back on for nightly security checks.

Together Chanyeol and you checked the reports from other cities and the surveillance outside of your building as well as the water storage. After your first yawn hit you mentioned wanting to clean up and get to bed soon at which point Baekhyun disappeared upstairs for sometime. You’d been ready to give up on him and crash for the night without even washing when he finally showed up. You grabbed one of your new shampoos, a towel and pajamas before following him quietly upstairs with your lantern in hand.

In the beginning you’d refused to leave the basement at night. The sight of the dark open dance hall creeped you out and you were always worried that there would be something hiding in the shadows. Ironically, it had been Baekhyun that had helped you out of your fear. You’d gotten into a pretty good system of making sure you’d done everything you needed to before the sun went down. It worked out really well for you at first.

That was until you, and everyone else, started to realize that things were changing. With every month that passed you realized that the invasion was having a lasting effect on weather patterns. Even now, after three years, they were unpredictable. Winter had come fast that first year. Sunlight was sparse, nights were seemingly endless. Some nights lasting literal days, as if the invaders were trying to force people out into the night to search for food and water, leaving them open and vulnerable for attack.

It was one of those long winter nights that Baekhyun realized how uncomfortable you looked. He’d laughed at first when you told him you had to pee, but when he noticed the genuine fear on your face when he suggested you just go upstairs he stopped. You’d been so embarrassed, it felt silly that of all the things left to be afraid of, that the dark was what paralzyed you. Then he offered to take you whenever you needed and promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about your fear. That winter night lasted eleven days and every time you had to go to the bathroom or wanted to wash up, Baekhyun was there to take you. He’d check all the shadows and stand outside the bathroom until you were ready to go back down. Even if you shook him out of a dead sleep you never heard a complaint.

It had been a long time since you’d needed someone to help you in the dark. On several occasions you’d even gone on scavenges at night. Like for the past four weeks when it rained all day everyday. There had been no sun but you also had no choice, your family needed food. So it seemed silly to you that he had offered to take you upstairs now. In front of the upstairs womens restroom Baekhyun stopped and held out his hand, “Lantern please.”

“I’m going to need it, Baek…” you whispered back knowing fully well the solar powered electricity that Chanyeol had set up didn’t run upstairs.

“Your lantern.” he requested once more, quietly, but sternly. With a deep sigh you handed him your lantern and he smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

He knelt down putting your lantern on the ground and picking up a container you hadn’t noticed before. Standing back up straight, he offered you the container.

“My gift to you.”

“You’ve already done enough.” you said taking the container, “Your stupid joke was more than enough for me.”

“Then this will just be the cherry on top.” he grinned, “Open it.”

You pulled open the lid of the container to find actual cherries. Cherries, strawberries, and blueberries to be exact. “How? I thought we were out of fresh food until the Farm trip?”

“I’ve been stockpiling my portions for you.”

“No, absolutely not. I can‘t accept this, Baekhyun.” you said shoving the container back towards him.

“You have to. I won’t eat it. I’ll let it all go to waste.” he shook his head defiantly, and you knew he was telling the truth. “It’s yours now.”

“Here,” Pulling open the lid once more you searched for the biggest piece of fruit you saw. You held the strawberry up to his lips. “Just eat one. I won’t be the reason your dumbass gets scurvy.”

He smiled happily, “Okay.”

You moved the fruit closer to his mouth and watched him wrap his lips gently around the fruit, you gulped at the sight but he didn’t seem to notice. “Do I get my lantern now?”

He shook his head as he chewed and swallowed down the berry, “Just go in, you won’t need it. I’ll wait out here on guard, You can have your lantern after.”

You looked at him suspiciously before turning to the door. With your fruit and your shampoo in hand you pushed the door open. You inhaled sharply at the sight. The entire makeshift shower room had been covered in candles and wildflowers. It was the most beautiful display you could ever remember seeing in your life.

“Baekhyun…” you whispered his name, not really knowing what else to say.

When you turned back to him he was smiling from ear to ear and he asked very hopefully, “Better than chocolate?”

You may have rolled your eyes but your smile and bright glow said everything he needed to hear, “I hate you.”

“Ah,” he blushed, “I love you too.”

#byun baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenario #exo scenario #kpop scenario #TEOTFW #do we hate this? I feel like maybe we hate this.

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ubernoxa · 4 years

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The Token: A GNR FanFic

Chapter 5: Burnt Pastries and Coffee

Masterlist

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. Did Michelle think it through as she chopped her hair? Nope. All she knew was that she wanted to make it on the strip. If she had to mascarade as a guy, so it shall be.

Chapter Summary: Izzy and Axl stop by Michelle’s work.

Tags: Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots

I have absolutely no desire to be at work this morning. My head hurt, my hand hurt, my arms hurt, hell EVERYTHING hurt. I popped my third aspirin of the morning into my mouth after dealing with an annoying customer who was complaining about how we were out of cherry danishes. It took every ounce of my will power to calmly tell her why we were sold out. Not only were the cherry danishes a very popular item, but we also stop making them at 10. Eventually she calmed down and made some comment how I should have gotten a better education to get a real job, but I digress. All I want to get across is that I should win some sort of acting award for smiling and not shoving a cherry pastry up her you know what.

“You know you’re only supposed to take one of those every 6 hours right?” I glared down my coworker wishing he would just leave me alone.

On top of the pain, my head was sweating because of the stupid wig. I felt like I had just gotten out of the shower and had yet to dry my hair. I wanted nothing more than my shift to finish, so I could take a shower.

I was grateful this morning when my coworker noticed my...hungover state and offered to run the register while I made the drinks. It was unconventional, but I defiantly appreciated it. I always looked forward to working with Derek during my shift. He was a nice guy, super easy to get along with. ..unless he was bugging you about the serving size for pain killers.

Any normal musician would smile and feel a sense of relief if a couple of her band mates came into the coffee shop, but I’m not what they call a normal musician. I felt my stomach tighten as the came in.

“Wow they just let anybody in here now,” an older woman said as I handed her the coffee she ordered.

“Well...we are open to the public, ma’am,” I replied before I returned to making the next order. I heard my coworker hide a snicker.

I watched the Indiana boys as they slowly made their way over to the pick up counter. Why were they here?

“Hey,” I ignored Axl at first. I didn’t want to give Derek the idea that I was friends with them because not too long ago I would constantly complain about them. ObViously my opinion of them has changed over the past days. I could feel Derek’s eyes wander towards me as I blended the smoothie I was making. When I heard Izzy raise his voice this time, I turned the blender on and blended the smoothie one last time.

I poured the smoothie out of the blender, turning around sending them a warm smile as if it was the first time I heard or saw them.

“Order for Tracy!” I cheered as I handed a girl no older than me her pink smoothie pulling her from the flirty eyes she was sending Axl and Izzy.

“Hey,” I stood at the counter smiling at the pair who were definitely out of their element.

“You guys look horribly out of place, you looking for Duff?” I asked trying to remember that Michelle didn’t like the Indiana boys.

“Nah, you guys dating or some shit?,” I let a laugh escape me as Axl finished talking.

I stood still and shook my head. “You think I’m his groupie?” Izzy sent me a look that meant one thing, careful. Did they really come down just to ask me that.

“Funny, Slash said the same thing last night,” I heard Axl say out loud. Why? I have no idea.

“Why you curious about Duff’s love life?” I tried to causally ask, but it definitely came out awkward.

“I’m more curious about the girl who gave us the free coffee.”

“Axl, don’t forget that’s the same girl who has definitely thrown a punch or two your way in the past,” I snapped back. It needed to sound hard. Duff..was was their band mate, friend even, but Michelle...she was the girl who had been in several fights with the pair.

“And yet..I don’t recall you every landing a punch,” I rolled my eyes as Axl spoke. I was in no mood for this.

“Did you guys come here to pick up chicks or something else. If you were coming for the girls, you definitely got their attention,” I asked as I tilted my head in the direction of the girls who hadn’t stopped looking at the pair.

“Didn’t notice,” Izzy cooly replied.

“Well, if you’re here to pick up a girl. You wouldn’t need to look far,” I gestured towards another table that had a few girls who were trying to discretely check out the pair, key word trying. The coffee shop was in a nicer part of town, and these rich girls had a thing for rockers. Something about the whole bad boys vide...at least that’s what I’ve been told.

“Come on Michie, we both know I don’t need to look for girls. Girls look for me,” he gently played with my fingers as he spoke. A small laugh escaped my lips.

I sent Izzy a ‘what the actual fuck’ look before he stepped forward.

“Thanks for the coffee, yesterday. It was the pick me up we all needed,” I thanked God that Izzy had decided to interrupt whatever conversation we were talking about.

“You should come to our next show. We’d love to have you there! Especially Duff, he seems to get a little red whenever we mention you,” Axl added.

So that was their reason for coming here? They wanted to invite me to their next gig? That was kind that they would do that for their band mate, but too bad that was never going to fucking happen.

“Sorry but I work nights,” I shrugged.

“You’re a coffee shop, who the hell buys coffee at night?” I stared Axl down as I felt like an idiot. How the hell did I not think the lie this far through.

“Yeah, we.....make the dough...and pastry stuff the night before! If you want the next time I work late I can give Duff a couple pastries for one of your practices,” I said praying he would buy into my answer. The offer of free food hopefully distracting him. Smooth, very smooth Michelle. I was mentally kicking myself.

“I’ll never turn down free food,” Axl flashed the first genuine smile he has ever sent in my direction when I was Michelle.

“You used to perform nights all the time, what happened,” I wanted to slap Izzy senseless when he opened his mouth and asked that question. He knew it was all a lie, so why was he pressing further. Did he enjoy watching me squirm?

“I got a recent promotion,” I cockily replied. It was such a blatant lie. I burnt half the pastries I made the other day. I was distracted by trying to figure out a line or two for a new Guns N’ Roses song. No way a promotion was in sight for me especially since I caused the pastry today’s shortage.

“Didn’t know you watched me perform...” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the words came out of my mouth anyway.

“There probably isn’t a guy on the strip who hasn’t seen Pixie perform. Plus from what I’ve heard about you..,” Axl’s tone pissed me off as he spoke. How was he so infuriating?

“You guys weren’t bad,” Izzy interrupted Axl from digging his hole. Obviously it was an attempt to move on from Axl’s stupid comment.

“Thanks, I’ll take not bad,” I offered a half baked smile as I spoke.

“What did you make me again, yesterday? You know the coffee you gave Duff? It was good,” Axl leaned forward as he spoke.

“Cinnamon coffee, but if you’re looking to try something new I recommend the vanilla berry coffee. It’s not on the menu, but it’s a house special,” I shot Izzy a quick glance and I could tell he was hiding a smirk. He knew this wasn’t just any ordinary coffee, it was karma coffee. (As I like to call it)

“Sounds good! Can I have that?”

“Michelle, I pay you to make coffee and other drinks. If you want to keep your job I recommend you do your job,” I turned to my uncle and flashed him a quick smile and nod. It was clear my uncle knew this wasn’t a conversation about work.

“Axl, I know this whole coffee shop thing is probably new to you, but you gotta order at the register,” I teased before returning to work.

“You okay?” I turned to Derek who seems somewhat concerned.

“Besides this headache I’m good...why?” I quickly rebutted. What the hell was he trying to get at?

“I don’t know much about the Strip, but for the past months I have heard you bitch about Axl and Izzy. Why are you being so nice to them all of a sudden?”

“I’m not they’re just...associates that’s all,” Derek made no attempt to hide his eye roll as I spoke.

“They’re gonna order some weird shit, just written it down and I’ll make it. Also just charge their orders to me. You know I’ll pay it. I’m good for the money,” I said as I walked past Derek to get more cups.

“Yup just associates.” Derek mumbled under his breath.

——————-

“It should be Take me down to the paradise city where the girls are fat and got big tities,” the room bust into laughter as I shook my head at him. We had been working on a song back at the ‘hell house’ as Axl called it for the past couple of hours. I would be lying if I said any of us were sober.

“No,” was all I could muster. My speech was beyond stuttered and slurred as I spoke. It was slowly becoming harder and harder to keep my voice deep.

“Why not? I love me some big girls and titties,” Slash threw his hands up in defense.

“I like grass is green waaay better,” I said before I finished my fifth or sixth beer. No wait seventh.

“Duffles,”

“Slaaaaaaash,”

He then continued to sing take me down to the paradise city where the girls are fat and got big tities. I was about to give in, but Steven immediately jumped in.

“I agree with Duff on this one,” Steven said before taking another sip of his drink.

“Thank fuckin god,” I mumbled the words under my breath, but somehow Axl must have heard me.

“Thank god you joined the band,” Axl sent a smile his way.

I felt a little pride flow through my veins as Steven and Axl agreed with me. This was new, the feeling of comrodery. In the past if I said something in one of my previous bands I was immediately shot down or completely ignored. I could get used to this.

I could feel a smile plaster on my face as I leaned back into the couch. We continued to fiddle around with different cords and lyrics for the next hour not really accomplishing much. The song was pretty good, if I may say so in my non sober state, but it wasn’t ready yet. There was something missing and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I almost jumped as I felt Izzy twirling my hair around his finger. I quickly snapped my head in his direction as he spoke to Axl. Was Izzy just doing this because he was drunk and knew I was a chick? I quickly looked around the room making sure not to draw attention to myself, and noticed that Izzy was either being incredibly discrete or everyone else was plastered. Maybe it was both?

“Looks like he’s out for the night,” Slash pointed towards Steven who earlier was passed out on the floor.

“Yeah,” he passed out like 20 minutes ago.

“Hey Slash,” I perked up as a couple girls came stumbling into the apartment. I couldn’t help but smile at Slash’s drunk girlfriend. She was sweet. If I met her as Michelle, I believe we would have been good friends. She came stumbling into the apartment with a couple of her friends, something that wasn’t incredibly uncommon. I watched as Axl quickly joined Slash heading to one of the shared closets that were setup as bedrooms. The last time Slash’s girlfriend stopped by with friends, they had made advances on me which Izzy immediately interrupted. I brought him a coffee the next day as a thank you.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” I perked my head up as he spoke.

“I’m a long ways away,” I let a giggle escape me as relaxed. Besides Steven who was clearly passed out, Izzy and I were the only two in the room.

“Stay the night then,” I giggled at his response before I finished my drink.

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apoguecalledjj · 4 years

Text

Fixation ( Chapter 9)

Sorry for my absence! I just started my first year of uni. But anyways, here it is, the last chapter of Fixation! (Theres an epilogue coming!) Definitely shorter than I originally planned, but I’m proud of it and I’m just happy to get it published. Hope you loved this series as much as I loved writing it!

Series summary: Eleanor is new to the outer banks, and the pogues are quick to take her in. But so are the kooks, and as she grows closer with Rafe, trouble emerges. Trying to balance her relationship with the pogues and the kooks, as well as dealing with her own personal problems, Eleanor falls into a hole she may not be able to dig herself out of.

Chapter Word Count: 2111

Chapter Warnings: None

Previous Parts: Ch. 1 Series masterlist

Taglist: @prejudic3 @maragritatimebaybee @drewxxrudy @outerbankslove @bricksatanakinswindow @alexa-playafricabytoto @gigi-june

JJ hardly left Ellie’s side. For the entirety of the two weeks, she was in the hospital, he was there, sat by her bed. He left to shower and sleep, and that was only because the nurses told him he had to. Of course, Ellie’s family and the pogues visited quite often as well, and Topper and Kelce. But the dedication JJ showed to Ellie melted her heart, and every day, thoughts of Rafe drifted away and were replaced with more and more of the beautiful blond-haired boy next to her. He stayed even when withdrawal and recovery got bad, held her hand through every needle and test she had done, and told her stories from his life when she got bored. John B and Pope teased him, wondering what had happened to the JJ they knew, but it was obvious to everyone what had happened: He had fallen in love. Now, just a few days after Ellie’s discharge from the hospital, the pair sat in her bed, the door opened just a crack from the rules her uncle laid, her head resting gently on his chest as he scrolled through her Netflix looking for a movie. Travis had grown to like JJ, something that shocked everyone. Even if Travis didn’t already have a bias against pogues, JJ had a reputation that everyone on the island knew about, and adults didn’t usually take kindly to him. But Travis couldn’t help but notice the way JJ changed around his niece, how he was much more gentle and quiet, and Travis respected that. “JJ, just turn on friends or something. I think I wanna have a nap,” Ellie muttered, snuggling in further onto JJ’s chest. The two weren’t official yet, Ellie still wanted to take things slow and they hadn’t gone any further than kissing, but everyone still considered her JJ’s girl. “El, you slept for 12 hours last night, and 13 the night before! How do you sleep so much?” “I got up to pee a couple of times,” Ellie muttered in defense, and JJ chuckled. “And it’s not my fault you’re so comfy. You make it so easy to fall asleep.” JJ didn’t respond, instead, he just switched-on friends and rested his head lightly against Ellie’s. He reached down, grabbing her hand in his, and she slowly rubbed her fingers over his calloused palms. He too found himself growing tired, the tiny action relaxing him as he focused on the feeling of her small hands against his. Ellie was barely drifting off when her phone rang, waking her. She groaned, barely opening her eyes to glance up at JJ. “Can you grab that?” JJ leaned over, reaching across her body to pick up her phone which was sitting on the nightstand. “Uh, Ellie,” He exclaimed as he turned it over, looking at the caller ID. “It’s your mom.” Ellie shot up, all traces of tiredness lost from her body. She had been here for a couple of months already, and her mother hadn’t reached out to her once. So why now? JJ stayed quiet as she answered the phone, not really knowing what to do. He had heard lots about Ellie’s mom, but he wasn’t sure if her calling was a good or bad thing. “What do you want?” Ellie snapped into the phone. It was definitely a bad thing. Ellie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as her mother’s voice echoed through the phone, slurred, just like always. “Eleanor. Travis told me what happened and I just wanted to check on my baby girl.” “Please don’t call me your baby girl.” The words stung Ellie. She understood addiction, especially after having gone through it, but that didn’t make the neglect from her mom hurt any less. “I love you, Eleanor. I’m sober now. I’m trying to get better, just for you. I’ve been going to meetings and-” Ellie cut her mom off. “You’re slurring. God only knows what you’re high on right now.” JJ shifted over, moving closer to Ellie so he could wrap his arms around her gently. Her eyes were filled with tears, threatening to overflow. Hearing from her mom unexpectedly shook her to her core, and a knot had worked its way into her stomach and showed no sign of leaving. “Don’t reach out to me until you’re sober, mom.” Ellie hung up the phone, not bothering to listen to anything else the woman had to say. She was tired, her whole life she had been dealing with her mother's addiction all while learning to take care of herself and her sister, and it seemed to be following her no matter where she went. “You okay?” JJ asked quietly, brushing away a stray tear that had leaked from her eye. He tugged on her body lightly, laying her down on the bed next to him and pulling her closer to his chest. The question seemed to ake things worst though, and JJ internally swore as Ellie began to shake and sob. He knew what it was like to have a shitty parent, but seeing someone else go through the pain was so heartbreaking, especially when it was someone he loved so much. He wanted more than anything to take all the pain away from her, but that was something he couldn’t do, so instead, he held her close and prayed that one day she could be fully happy. --- It was Ellie’s first time back at the chateau since she had been discharged from the hospital. Even though it had already been a couple of weeks, the pogues had all been quite busy and there wasn’t a great time for them all to get together. Today though, everyone was free, so they planned a little celebration for Ellie. Even with just the six of them, a few balloons and a small store-bought cake, the ‘party’ still bought a huge smile to Ellie’s face that stuck around even after the cake had been devoured and the balloons had been popped (The first was an accident by John B, the rest by JJ after he saw how much the loud pop scared everyone else). It was beginning to get dark out, and they had made their way from John B’s tiny, and now messy, kitchen out to the small firepit he had outside. It took a while to light the fire, but once it was ablaze the laughter and chats continued. Ellie couldn’t help but notice that for the entire day, not a drop of alcohol was involved. Even though alcohol wasn’t involved in her recent addiction and overdose, the pogues were still cautious with her recovery and she appreciated that. As the air began to get chilly, Ellie leaned into JJ’s side, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her even closer. Sarah smirked, there had been no talks of a relationship between the two since Ellie had been released from the hospital but everyone could tell something was going on. Sarah opened her mouth, ready to question the pair cuddled up together, but footsteps approaching from the driveway interrupted her. John B and Kiara heard it too, their faces contorted in confusion as they weren’t expecting anyone else to show up. “What the fuck are you doing here?” John B noticed who it was first, and he stood up hastily, clearly trying to block Ellie’s view of who it was. But as soon as John B spoke, Ellie pulled away from the warmth of the boy beside her, standing up so she could see over John B’s shoulder. She moved forward quickly, ready to jump in to help the pogues with their unwanted guest, but quickly froze as she made eye contact with Rafe Cameron. JJ was beside her in an instant, his hand lightly resting on her lower back. She could hear him breathing heavily, could feel the anger radiating from him. “You got a lot of nerve showing up here,” He sneered, ready to jump into a fight. “I just want to see Ellie,” Rafe said defensively, his hands raised in the air. “I have no interest in seeing you.” Ellie found her voice, the words coming out way harsher than intended, not that she minded. “Ellie, I-” Rafe started to speak, moving to get closer to her, but he was blocked as John B quickly stepped to the side. “Could you shut the fuck up?” It was clear how angry Ellie was, all the fear and uneasiness she had displaced just minutes ago nowhere to be seen. She pulled away from JJ and brushed past John B so that she was stood directly in front of her ex. “Ellie, wha-” JJ questioned her but was cut off by a wave of her hand, and all the pogues were quiet. None of them doubted Ellie, she could handle this herself and they all knew it. “Why are you being so fucking rude?” The softness that had coated Rafe’s face when he first arrived was gone, replaced with fury and hatred. Ellie rolled her eyes. “You almost killed me, Rafe. You left me to die from an overdose on a drug that I never even would have taken if it wasn’t for you. Not to mention, the entirety of our relationship, you were a complete ass. So yes, I’m being rude. I have no idea why you would even think it would be okay to come here to see me.” “Whatever. You’re a massive fucking bitch anyways,” Rafe muttered. At this, JJ’s hand balled into a fist, enraged that the kook had the audacity to talk about Ellie that way. He wanted to rush forward, to pound his fist into his face. But he didn’t need to, because as Rafe turned to leave, Ellie reached out and grabbed his hand, turning him back towards her. Hope flashed in his eyes, Rafe’s immediate thought being that she changed her mind and was going to ask him not to leave. That thought was short-lived though because Ellie proceeded to smack him across the face. John B gasped, shocked at the sudden physical outburst from Ellie he hadn’t seen before. Sarah snorted, glad to see her brother finally getting what he deserved. Pope blinked slowly, trying to figure out what had happened to the sweet Ellie he had got to know, not that he blamed her for hitting Rafe. JJ stared in awe, amazed at the girl he loved standing up for herself. Rafe opened his mouth to speak, his eyes narrow as he glared at Ellie. “Don’t,” She said, shaking her head. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” Luckily, Rafe turned to leave, no longer interested in putting up a fight. Ellie stuck up her middle finger to him as he left, and even though his back was to her and he couldn’t see it, the gesture still made her feel good. “Woah, Ellie!” John B shouted once Rafe’s truck had sped off. “Didn’t know you had it in you!” “That’s my girl!” JJ whooped, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around her. He lifted her in the air, spinning her around with excitement, but quickly noticed how stiff she was, her arms didn’t reciprocate the hug, her smile didn’t match his, instead, she nibbled at her lip nervously, her eyes wide. JJ quickly backtracked and realized the mistake he made. “Oh, shit, El,” He muttered, putting her down and stepping back to look at her better. “I’m sorry, that just slipped out.” Ellie blinked a couple of times, gathering her thoughts together before slowly smiling. “No, I- I liked the sound of it. I think I’d like to be your girl.” JJ could hear his friends cheering around them, but at that moment, all he could focus on was her. The words took him by surprise, she had been so set on taking things slow, he didn’t expect it. Ellie could tell he was flustered, the slight pink tinge to his cheeks giving him away. She stepped forward with a smirk, grabbing his hand to pull him closer as well. They were basically touching, she glanced up at him innocently and JJ swore he fell in love even more. “You gonna kiss your girl?” Ellie whispered. JJ bent his head down slightly so his lips could meet hers, and even though they had kissed before, this felt different. She was finally his. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, both of them forgetting about everyone around them. JJ was absolutely and utterly in love with her, and he didn’t know it, but she was in love with him too.

#Outer Banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks jj #obx #obx fic #outer banks one shot #obx imagine #obx one shot #obx netflix #jj #jj maybank fic #jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #outer banks jj maybank #OC #oc x jj

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serararku · 3 years

Text

The Black Adder Boys

It was sunset when K’thalen arrived at the outskirts of Gavin’s Gully. The bandit patrols on the lookout for both easy pickings and Immortal Flames’ agents sniffing around their turf never even noticed his presence, thanks to the cover provided by the ugliest and angriest dust storm this year. He wouldn’t mind putting these criminals into the ground, of course, but he preferred to keep his low profile for the time being.

He walked straight down the main street like he owned the place, keeping one hand on his hat to shield his face from the wind and sand, and the other firmly on his studded forge iron belt. The tattered ends of his long leather trench coat flicked up with each gust of wind, flashing the particular firepower he brought along with him. It didn’t take long for the sparse denizens of Gavin’s Gully to catch wind of his approach now that he was within the shanty town. Decent folk knew trouble was brewing and none of them wanted anything to do with it, wisely deciding to shut their blinds and retreat away from their windows; everyone else watched him with curious suspicion, already auctioning off whatever loot they would pry from this deadman’s corpse. He approached the biggest building left standing in the town, and turned to glance over his shoulder. The building across the street was completely abandoned- he would have to keep that in mind.

Creeaaak!

K’thalen swung the tavern’s doors wide open when he stepped inside, letting a dusty gust of wind rush in between his feet before the door closed behind him. His eyes darted across the room like an apex predator to make a quick count of everyone present: three men at the pool table, another four sitting at a nearby table playing cards, one man standing behind the counter, three leaning on the railing on the second floor, and two more keeping to the window on the other end of the room. It looked like a Keeper of the Moon Miqo’te family of three were being held captive: the father held at gunpoint behind the bar, a son crumbled on the floor after a recent beating, and a daughter at the card table- their plaything until they got bored of her sniffling. Everyone stopped what they were doing once they heard the howling wind and the creaking door, with wide eyes and skeptical glares burning holes in his face once he began to make his way to the bar. He kept his movements slow and deliberate in case any of them were trigger happy, with one hand gently pulling his hat off while he ran his fingers through his raven-feathered hair.

“Can we help you?” The man holding the pistol against the gut of the barkeep asked. K’thalen first dusted off the road from his sleeves and sat down on the only stool that wasn’t broken, then set his hat on the counter.

“Treehollow. As tall as you can pour it.”

Laughter ripped through the tavern like someone spilled firecrackers across the floor. Even the father nervously laughed along with his captor, until his side was jabbed with the pistol. “What’re ya laughin’ at?! Ya heard him didn’t ya!? Get ‘em a damn drink!” The man winced and swiped a tall mug from the back shelf, before fumbling with the tap. K’thalen slowly looked over his shoulder at the boy on the floor; he was still alive at least, but no older than twelve. Once these brigands had drunk this tavern dry, he and his father would likely not be long for this world.

“Are ya lost, boy?” The man huffed, hoisting himself onto the counter beside K’thalen. “Do ya not know who we are?”

“Don’t know your face.” He answered, studying the barkeep’s face. His eyes were glazed over and empty, yet still exhausted from the fear of death; the poor man was hopeless in his situation, knowing these thugs would have their way with his children until they no longer amused them. “But I know your colors. You’re the Black Adder Boys.”

“That’s right.” He gave his buddies an amused sneer before returning his attention to the stranger. “‘Course… the real question is, who’re you?”

K’thalen lifted a finger as he raised the mug to his lips. He made him wait for a full seven seconds as he downed his drink in a half-dozen gulps. When he finally set the empty mug down, he smacked his lips a few times before answering, “A visitor lookin’ for a friend.” His ears pointed behind him when he heard the pool sticks slap against the table, and the skidding of chairs sliding backward; he furtively slipped his free hand down into his lap and braced himself.

The man leaned down to eye level and whispered, "Ain't no friends o'yours 'round here, mister. So why don't you uhhh… disappear before we beat ya to death?"

With a slow nod and pursed lips K'thalen reached for his hat and slipped it back onto his head. "Aye, I'm gone. But I'm takin' the barkeep and his kids with me."

"You'll be lucky t’leave with your life." The friendly facade has melted away now that he was no longer amused. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder before saying, "You don't make demands o'us, ya hear me, cat bastard? Leave all o’your money on the count-”

K’thalen whipped his elbow into the man’s face with a wet crunch! He then swung his arm around and smashed that tankard against his head so hard the wooden mug split in two- he shot up to his feet and pulled his revolver from its holster and spun around to face whoever stood behind him. His ears flattened against his head when he saw how many barrels were pointed at him. If it weren’t for a Hyur standing by the door with his arms crossed, he would be dead already.

“That’s enough of that, lad.” He chuckled, his eyes snapping to the barely conscious man with the broken nose. “Put ya gun down, nice and easy. Ain’t nobody need to die in our own turf.”

He was reluctant to drop his custom six-shooter, but he obliged all the same, keeping his other hand hidden. “You the one in charge ‘round here?”

“I am. You can call me Alfric.” Once the revolver smacked against the floor, he raised his hand to signal his buddies to lower their own weapons. “... you sound familiar. Do I know you stranger?”

The last thing he needed was someone recognizing who he was before he was ready. “Just passin’ by, lookin’ for a friend.” K’thalen’s ears perked up to the sound of subtle footsteps on the upper level over his head. “He goes by the name of Turold Two-Shank. Your boss.”

“Was my boss.” Alfric slipped his thumbs into the loops of his pants. “Poor bastard bit off more than he could chew, and now he dines with the dead. We answer to Jack now.” He paused to study the stranger one last time. “I’m only gonna tell you this once. Empty your pockets and leave that shiny piece on the floor there, and you’ll only walk outta here with your life and some bruises. Can’t have strangers makin’ fools of my men, especially my boss. You underst-?”

“Fuck that!” The man with the smashed nose gurgled out. “Someone shoot this sumbitch!” K’thalen saw him reaching for something in his peripheral vision, and that was all the excuse he needed.

Tha! Like lightning his hidden hand shot from his coat and fired! Blam! Blam! Blam! Three shots, one for the loudmouth, and two more at the man in charge. -thump! He leapt backward up and over the counter, rolling his fingers across the steel hammer to unload the rest! Blam blam blam! The barkeep covered his ears and dropped down behind the counter with K’thalen, as a hail of bullets ripped through the bottles on the back shelf and busted the wooden barrels overhead. “He got Alfric!” He heard someone shout under the chorus of gunfire. “Kill that cat bastard!”

K’thalen laid low against the counter as he fished out a fistful of bullets from his pocket, his heart beating against his chest like a drum. The barkeep was screaming as malt liquor showered them from above, but at least he was flat on his stomach and unharmed; slowly but surely the barrage from the Black Adder Boys died down once they were out of ammo. “Did we get em?!” Someone shouted, with the familiar sound of several people reloading- it was now or never! “Oh shi-!”

He rolled out of cover for round two. Six muzzle flashes made six falling corpses. He dropped the smoking gun and jumped for his prized revolver, popping the hat off a man above him with a single shot; he then spun around on his heel and struck the man using the daughter as a shield in the groin, allowing her to drive her elbow into his nose and break free of his grasp.

“Grab the boy and get back behind the counter!” He ordered, spinning his empty revolver before sliding it back into his lucky holster. “Them boys outside heard that commotion!”

“W-what are we gonna do?!” The father pleaded, throwing his arms around his children. “There’s dozens of them! You ain’t got the firepower for them all, mister!”

“Don’t I?” K’thalen pulled off his coat and let it drop to the floor. He reached for his prized possession on his back and pulled it over his shoulder; the magitek rifle unfolded and clicked into place, with ceruleum canisters glowing on its underside. He leapt behind the counter with them and pointed the strange weapon toward the door, and metal bars drove into the wooden countertop as a small half-visor dropped over his right eye. “Cover your ears!”

SHOOM! SHOOM! SHOOM! SHOOM!

As soon as he saw silhouettes and shadows rushing toward the door and windows, K’thalen made them disappear. Superheated ceruleum-propelled slugs punched fist-sized holes through the front entrance of the tavern, and the building across the street, and the building behind that one, and the one behind that one too. Glowing red shells littered the table and floor to his left, as he fired over and over again; it wasn’t until the barrel was shimmering and white-hot did he finally stop, but not because he wanted to; he was out of rounds at last.

The rifle slowly collapsed back into itself, but he wisely kept it anchored to the counter instead of putting it on his back to give himself second and third degree burns. The father slowly lifted his head to see the aftermath, and the daughter soon followed. The front door was gone, as was most of the wall; they could see across the street that the other building was completely toppled over and in ruins. “Menphina’s madness… what was that?!”

“Magitek.” K’thalen slowly rose to his full height, slipping more bullets into his favorite revolver as his rifle began to automatically cool down. “Stay behind the counter. I gotta have a chat with a friend of ours right quick.” Slowly he made his way around the counter, stepping over corpses and broken bottles to reach the man he neutered- he was still clutching his bloodied crotch, whilst he struggled to breathe. When he noticed his approach, a scornful grimace spread across his pained face.

“W-what do ya fuckin’ want?!”

“Looks painful, lad. Real painful.” K’thalen pulled out his revolver and crouched beside the man. “Tell me where Jack is holdin’ up, and I’ll put you outta your misery. Bleedin’ out from what’s left of your balls is a bad way to die.”

“H-he’s gonna skin ya alive…!” The man spat, in between his groans and wincing. “He’s g-gonna… turn you int-to a coat… y-ya filthy… cat bastard!”

“Suit yourself.” K’thalen slipped his gun back where it belonged and bounced up to his full height. He glanced over at the family watching him; seeing a man- even a worthless bandit- squirm around and slowly die in his own blood was not something he wanted to put them through. With a sudden change of heart, K’thalen pulled out his revolver and turned back around to finish the job.

“W-wait…! W-!”

Blam!

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soyforramen · 4 years

Text

Kill Your Boyfriend

“A little girl wants revenge; a real woman moves on while karma does her dirty work for her,” Alice said primly as she set another bowl into the cabinet.

“Did you read that in Reader’s Digest?” Gladys asked sourly and shifted the steak on her face. A scowl be more apt, but it would only pull at the skin around her eye, and she’d had more than enough pain for the night.

She lowered it only for Alice to swoop in and press it further against Gladys face. This time Gladys did scowl, damn the pain. With a smug smile, Alice returned to emptying her dishwasher (oh how far she’d come from hand washing dishes in the back of the Wyrm; and yet Gladys hadn’t moved an inch). If it wasn’t for their shared history - intimate and professional - Gladys would have sucker punched Alice and taken the good silver on her way out.

“Platitudes are all well and good, but I’d say now’s the time for a reminder as to why men shouldn’t hit women.”

“It’s also a good time for you to think for once,” Alice snapped. The china dishes let out a scream as she slammed another plate onto the stack. She reached for a large butcher’s knife and shoved it into the block. (Eighty, ninety bucks easy for a slab of wood, Gladys thought. Bougie wood for the bougie, upscale lifestyle Alice had been scheming her way into since kindergarten.)

“If you go after him now -“

Gladys leaned back as the steak knife in Alice’s hand came too close to her face. She reached out and pushed Alice’s wrist down towards the kitchen island least this problem be solved by an inadvertent stabbing.

“-you're the only suspect,” Alice continued. “Keller will have you in handcuffs and behind bars -“

She held up a hand to keep Gladys quiet. Instead of saying every dirty little thing she was thinking - about Keller, handcuffs, and Gladys’ past indiscretions with the blonde woman - she let her smirk say it all.

“-and who would look after your son? His father in the ground, you in the pen. He’d be in foster care in a day.”

Gladys mused on this, wondering if it was too late in life to start writing country songs. She sucked on her teeth and winced. One of the back ones was lose, probably courtesy of when she’d been thrown against the bathroom sink. God damn FP and his alcoholic fits. It was one thing for a man to hold his liquor; it was another for him to pour it out onto his wife.

The Cooper kettle screamed (robin’s egg blue, polished and shiny as if it had never been used; 45 easy from Box and Keg, with coupon). Alice turned her attention towards it and began making the suburban equivalent of a shot of good whiskey. Gladys would have killed for a shot of anything right now, but PTA, Home & Garden Alice frowned on fun like mixing valium and alcohol. Serpent Alice would already have three prozac and a tequila sunrise ready for her.

“So what would you suggest, since stabbing him through the heart is off the table,” Gladys said. She turned the steak over and sighed at how cool the other side was.

Alice pursed her lips while she loaded the dishwasher full of pots and pans from the earlier family dinner. The one Gladys had crashed by knocking on the backdoor, blood streaming from her face, her eyes red and clothes torn, a sleeping child cradled in her arms. Before the in-laws could see, Alice had whisked her upstairs for a change of clothes and first aid. Gladys didn’t know what had been said, but it wasn’t more than a few minutes before Jughead had been laid down in the crib next to Betty, and she’d been taken downstairs and seated at the island, a hearty slice of apple pie a la mode set in front of her.

“Stay here a few days. Let it be known you’re out of the house and you’re not going back. Spread a few rumors about who F.P.’s been working with,” Alice said. “Maybe pick up a night shift at Pop’s.”

Her focus was on the caked on grease that defiled her pristine life, but Gladys knew the gears were turning in her head. Alice always was the schemer, the planner. She’d had her entire life planned out when reality sunk in that the Smiths weren’t in the same zip code as the Cleavers, let alone the same country. If one wanted a plan, one that wasn’t necessarily foolproof, but smart enough to fool ninety percent of the population, Alice Smith was that person.

There was one small hitch, though.

“Where am I going to stay in the meantime? The trailer park’s out, and couch surfing with a two-year old tends to get old real quick. Especially since most of my friends are more likely to have needles lying around than milk.”

Alice waved off her concerns. “Hal’s going on some retreat, Find Your Inner Masculine Self, or some other insecure ego trip for the next month, so the basement will be free,” Alice said. She let the water drain out of the sink and picked up two cups of tea. One she sat in front of Gladys; the other she took with her as she sat down at the island. “And I could always use some help with the girls.”

It was tempting. A stable roof over their head and three squares a day. More than F.P. ever provided them.

“What’s the catch?”

Alice shook her head, a coy smile on her face. “No catch. Only …”

Gladys raised an eyebrow. She set the steak down on the styrofoam container. “Only?”

“You let me help make F.P. disappear.”

“There a history there I should know about?”

Alice blew on her tea and took a small sip. Her eyes closed as she savored the flavor. Gladys’ question hung in the air, unanswered.

xxxx

Dead tired, feet aching, Gladys punched out from her ten hour shift at Pop’s. It hadn’t been terrible, pretending as if F.P. didn’t exist. She’d been acting as a single mother for the last year and it was easier when she didn’t have to pick up after him as well.

It was actually quite nice. Or at least, playing house with Alice was. While they’d both respected each others boundaries, there were plenty of times Gladys wanted to break them, and Alice didn’t make it easy. Whether it was a rekindling of old flames, or whether it was Gladys’ own complex about people who treated her kindly, it didn’t matter in the end. Alice was married (ten carrot ring, rose gold, priceless and worthless depending on who you asked), and disgustingly happy about it, and Gladys refused to take that from her.

She bid Pop’s a good night and stepped out into the humid night air. Right on time, Alice pulled up to the diner in her eyesore of a wood paneled station wagon (not even worth casing, it was so ugly). Gladys sunk into the faux leather seats and let her eyes shut, the smell of grease and burnt coffee staying with her even after they’d crossed the railroad tracks. Tonight, though, Alice took a left instead of a right.

Gladys cracked an eye open and watched the quaint brick work turn into tall, dark pines. She turned to Alice whose expression never wavered.

“Al?”

“Do you still want to go through with this?”

Gladys sat up in her chair and stared at Alice. She didn’t need to ask what she meant. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious.”

“Alright then.”

Alice pulled off the road just outside of Greendale, the road lit by the light of a hole-in-the-wall bar. Rows of motorcycles lined the parking lot. The drunks had spilled out of the double wide building and were lounging around the porch, loud enough to wake the dead. While they waited for the party to die down, Gladys wondered how much time Alice had spent tracking his movements, how much energy she’d expended on this side project of hers.

Country rock whispered around them, punctuated with the hoots and hollers of men all too eager to spend their meager paychecks on booze and women.

“Why do you care so much?” Gladys asked. She didn’t expect an answer.

“About him? Or you?”

Gladys chuckled. Of course Alice would see right through her. She always had been able to.

“Both. Neither. It’s not like we parted on good terms. And I didn’t exactly keep up with the Christmas cards.”

Alice pursed her lips, her gaze still laser focused on the horde of people, escaping their own problems. These were the people they’d been raised with. In other parts of the country they’d be white-trash, rednecks; here they were blue-collar workers who’d been left behind as corporations moved overseas at the behest of ever growing profits. They’d been left to fend for themselves among the corpses of dying towns, unwilling to leave behind the lives their father’s had left them.

“There he is,” Alice said.

She shifted the car into gear and let it idle as F.P. swayed down the ramp and greeted everyone he passed. Gladys always said he’d be good in politics, if he wasn’t so easily swayed by a shot and an easy fix. Five minutes later and he was at his bike. It took him three tries to start it up, and she knew he was at least ten beers in. He roared out of the parking lot and the station wagon quietly followed behind.

“Now what?” Gladys asked as the darkness enveloped them again.

Alice was quiet, focused on her prey. The dashboard light illuminated the cab, casting eerie blue shadows around them.

“All right, surprise party it is,” Gladys said.

Bored, she put her shoes up on the dash. Alice swatted them down.

“I just had it detailed.”

Alice took a sharp breath in as the motorcycle came to a slow stop off the road. The station wagon passed it, and Gladys turned to watch as F.P. staggered to his feet. They turned right onto an off road, and Alice pulled over to the side. Calmly, she turned the engine off and stepped out of the vehicle.

The gravel crunched beneath Gladys’ plain white sneakers, loaned to her from Alice’s full closet, as she followed Alice around the car to the trunk. Gladys let out a low whistle at the sight. Everything from a crowbar to a battery operated jump starter to an emergency blizzard kit. Hal Cooper made sure to take care of his wife’s every on-road need.

Alice reached in, her grey cardigan riding up as she reached for the shovel tucked neatly in the back. Gladys took it from her and watched as Alice surveyed her options. After a moment, she picked up a tarp and an axe, the sharp edge gleaming in the brake lights. It lay naturally in Alice’s hands, another well worn tool in her arsenal of getting what she wanted out of life.

In the red brake lights, Alice looked like a macabre angel of vengeance. Grey cardigan, black cigarette pants, pearl drop earrings. She was dressed for a potluck.

It was that moment that Alice’s plan revealed itself, and Gladys couldn’t help but chuckle at its perfection.

Alice Cooper, helicopter mother of the year, had selflessly takin in a childhood friend after she’d been battered. Caring, kind Alice, who spent two Sundays a month volunteering at the homeless shelter, trying to get her friend back on her feet. Vicious enforcer of her HOA and PTA rules, Alice would turn in her own mother-in-law for rolling through a stop-sign, had picked up Gladys from work and driven off, presumably to take her back to the picture perfect lifestyle on Elm Street.

How on earth could anyone imagine that she’d let a dangerous person near her family, let alone aid and abet in a murder?

With a smirk reminiscent of the old Alice, the one Gladys would eagerly kill for, they stepped into the woods where F.P. was last seen.

“Let’s go kill your boyfriend.”

#parentdale #tw: domestic violence #gladys/alice #for halcooper #for introducing me to how perfect these two would have been

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inkedsoldier · 4 years

Text

Chew the Bullet - Chapter One

A Modern Warfare series

Casey Vos is a liaison officer for the Dutch Special Forces. She has been stationed in Afghanistan and Syria, but now works everywhere they need her assistance. Specialized in counterterrorism and intelligence, she is unmistakably a great asset for the upcoming Taskforce 1-4-1, under the command of Captain John Price.

A/N: Here it is – the official chapter one of Chew the Bullet. I’m going to slowly introduce all the characters while (sort of) following the storyline of the gaming series, starting with the most recent campaign of Modern Warfare (2019). English is not my first language, but I’m getting better at it. Please, if you see any errors, let me know so I can fix it. It’s much appreciated. Well, I hope you enjoy! And please leave a note, vote or message with your thoughts! Bravo team out.

Warnings: guns.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

____________

War is not just a three letter word. It is something worse. Something that can obliterate everything. War tears humans apart, even those who were once so close. Victims of war are over and over drowned in waves of guilt, pain and regret. In war no one is safe. Nowhere.

Returning to a place she once called home was just a foolish thought in Casey´s brain. Everybody moved on in her absence. No one to return to for a warm embrace or innocent chatter. Home was a gaping hole and had long since healed and scarred up. She thought that with growing up in a place full of violence, tears and poverty she had seen everything. But nothing could have prepared her for the life as a soldier. She had seen friends, allies and blood brothers die. The moment you enlist, no matter what age, you either die in combat or live with the guilt of what your hands caused.

At twenty-seven years old she had seen it all. Done it all. First Afghanistan, then Syria - and now everywhere they needed her assistance. As a liaison officer for the Dutch Special Forces she could be in London one day, and in Moscow the next.

It has been twenty-six months since the last time she set foot in the cosy coffee shop in her hometown of Rotterdam. The air is thick with the scent of the dark liquid. Before she makes her way to the table in the corner of the place she orders a cappuccino at the counter. The first thing she does before sitting down is grabbing the laptop out of her backpack. She would never leave without the device. You could never know when another terrorist cell would pop up with the most horrific intentions. The laptop didn’t look as new as a few months back, but it saved a lot of lives in the meantime. Collecting information and analysing data were the main tasks on the computer to provide guidance and direction in modern warfare. Since Casey came back from the special operation in Istanbul there has been a lot of chatter about Al-Qatala. Unfortunately, the rules of engagement kept her from acting on it.

The moment the barista turns up with her drink a notification appears on the screen of the laptop – a new email from Kyle. “Casey- We need to talk.” A short, but clear message. She winced as she took a quick sip from the overly bitter drink. The lack of cream made it just another caffeine shot. Not what she expected, but something she needed. She met Sergeant Kyle Garrick a couple of months back when working on a case at the Metropolitan Police Service. It was then that he crossed paths with allies of Omar Sulaman, also known as the Wolf, for the first time. “Call you in twenty,” was all she replied before sliding the laptop back in her bag and walking over to the barista to pay for the coffee.

Back in the hotel room near central station she immediately sets up a secured connection to contact the British sergeant. Within seconds after calling in, Kyle appeared on the screen in front of her. “Casey, where are you?” Kyle asked. “Hey Gaz, how are you doing? Nice to see you, too” Casey chuckled watching the intense look on Kyle’s face. “Sorry, Case… but we got trouble incoming. Another one of the Wolf’s safe houses got onto our radar,” he explained. Casey couldn’t believe her ears. “Where?” was all she replied. “South London. Near Sutton. How fast can you get here?” From Rotterdam to London by train would take five hours with a stop in Paris. Taking the train of one o’clock would give her one hour to pack everything and check out of the hotel. “I can be at Saint Pancras at five. Can you send me the intel you got so far?” Kyle leaned towards the camera and nodded, “Great. I’ll pick you up at the lower level of the station, near the taxi rank. We don’t have much, but I’ll send you everything through the server. See you soon!” Casey waved her hand, “Copy that”.

During the train ride to London, Casey poured herself into the data she had received from Kyle. He had send her a map of the safe house and all the intel they managed to collect in the last couple of days. The Wolf was back on the grit with a desire to make the west suffer to gain advantage and power. Sulaman is the leader of the terrorist organization responsible for plotting terror attacks, inspiring sleeper cells and lone followers to ban against world power. He was once a freedom fighter, a leader and a hero in the eyes of the west, but he turned. A lack of will made him intolerant. His knowledge of the western strategic limitations moulded him a kingpin of mass destruction. Both the man, and his movement gained mass support in the last years. Casey rested her head in her hands as memories flooded her mind. She had the chance to kill him a few years back, but a bullet… one freaking bullet stopped her from ending it all. The voice over the speakers yanked her out of the trance. The train arrived at its final destination, London Saint Pancras International.

As promised, Kyle was waiting a the taxi rank on the lower level of the huge station. The area was a seething of mass of humanity – people on their way back home from a nine to five office job, tourists on the move to platform nine and three quarters, and teenagers meeting up with friends for a unforgettable night out. “Sergeant,” she said as she walked up to the six foot tall Afro-British SAS soldier. His brown eyes sparkled as he saw the brunette approach him. “Lieutenant,” he replied before embracing her in a tight hug. “Glad to see you, gal.”

The ride to the Yard was filled with chatter between the two, but as soon as they arrived at the headquarters the talk got more serious. “Did you check the intel?” Kyle asked as they stepped into the elevator. “I did. Got some strategies on how to handle the raid and clean house. There are multiple ways to enter the property, and we need to be prepared for the worst case scenario. We both know how the Wolf likes to set up his security,” Casey answered. “Good. I got a team waiting for us to go through the plan. We don’t have much time, but it should be enough to get in prepared,” he replied. Upon entering the briefing room she already spotted a few men waiting in front of the screen. “Lads, meet Casey Vos. Lieutenant and liaison officer from the Dutch Special Forces. She is going to assist us at tonight’s clean up,” Kyle kicked off. A member of the team walks towards Casey and holds out his hand, “Welcome, Lieutenant. I’m Brooks and this here are Crowley and Fowler.” It was a simple welcome, but greatly appreciated. Meetings like this weren’t always easy, especially not when you were the only woman operating in a team of dudes. “Thank you. Nice to meet you. I would like to start the briefing in five. Kyle, are we expecting more men?” she smiled while shaking Brooks’ hand. “Yes, we do actually. Let me get them, so you can set everything up.”

8:45 PM Sutton, South London

The twilight quickly faded to blackness in the small alleys in Sutton, a southern borough in London. Thick clouds blotted out the stars and the moon in the still air. In the distance you could hear the cry of dogs. “Okay, guys. Be advised. There may be non-combatants on target. Check your shots. Watch those corners,” Casey instructed making way to the residence. Before entering the courtyard behind the house, they met up with another team. Casey, Kyle, Brooks, Crowley and Fowler would enter the premises from the back. The second team consisting of three officers would enter from the side, and a third team would enter from the front. “Ready? Good. Alpha-One moving in on the rear.”

“Alpha-One, this is Alpha-Two. About to enter the eastern alley,” one of the officers stated on the comms. “Copy that, Alpha-Two.” Entering through the back door was easy and the kitchen area was empty, but two deep voices could be heard from the living area of the house. Kyle slowly opened the door and dropped the two men, who were both armed. “Secure.” Casey moved up to the hallway when Alpha-Three entered through the front door. Footsteps could be heard from the upper level of the townhouse. “Alpha-One moving to the first floor,” Casey said tapping Brooks shoulder. Quietly they moved in formation and cleared the second floor. “Casey, on me” Kyle spoke pointing to the last floor. Frantic movement could be heard from upstairs. The Al-Qatala members definitely knew something was going on below them. “ I hear two. I got your six, Gaz” Casey said after checking her weapon if it was in need of a reload. The two steadily moved up and ceased in front of the wooden door at the end of the small corridor. They looked at each other and nodded before entering the last room. A woman and a little boy where hiding in a corner of the dark space. “Hold your fire,” Kyle said when he saw they were unarmed. The sergeant restraint the mother and her child, and guided them downstairs. “Case, see what you can find!”

The house wasn’t big, but it was a ginormous mess. Papers spread everywhere – on the floor, in cabinets, pinned on the wall. And not to mention the devices that were present that had to be examined. Phones and laptops scattered all over the place. “Alpha-Two for Alpha-One, we need you on the first floor,” she heard in her earpiece. “Copy, Alpha-Two.” Grabbing everything she already found, she made her way to the other team. “What do you got for me?” she asked the officer. “You’re not going to like this,” he said while turning the screen of the black laptop so she had a clear view of the data. Her eyes combed the display from side to side rapidly. She held her breath to concentrate as if her life depended on it. She started to violently beat her fingers against the keyboard in search for more while the glittering beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. All the fragments clogged her mind and she tried to connect them all together. “Shit,” was all she could say after opening one of the encrypted files. “Get Sergeant Garrick. Now!” she spat to the officer. It wasn’t long before Kyle got to Casey. “We’re in deep shit, Kyle. Check this out. Apparently the Wolf has his eyes on chlorine gas from Barkov. A group of mercs are prepping the convoy as we speak. This is really bad. You know what happens when he gets his hands on chemicals like this.” The Brit was stunned by the info he just consumed. His mind was going haywire. “We need to do something,” he affirmed. Casey knew what she had to do. It was her only option to try to prevent any close encounters with chemicals like this.

__________

Masterlist

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phony-stony · 4 years

Text

I’ve got you (it’s okay)

written for @winterironmonth SFW Monday. Fills out the following prompts: TROPE/AU: Arc Reactor/Metal Arm Angst WORD: Kidnapped

Words: 9.6k Ao3 link

stay tuned for other fics this month!

Bucky's body is tucked in the leftmost corner of the cell he's in, eyes trained and glaring hard at the door not that far away from him. The room is bare and the walls are smooth and solid, lacking seams where portions have been fitted together. The ceiling, floor, and surrounding walls are steel, most likely incredibly thick. The door is similar, but Bucky had learned upon trying to thrust his fist through that it is reinforced with vibranium as well. There is no window or handle, and the hinges are on the other side. In short, there is nothing of even remote use in this cell for a possible escape.

It may not be ideal, but the situation is far from hopeless.

Bucky shifts his weight and flexes his fingers, trying to work some feeling into them. The vibranium enforced handcuffs that bind his wrists are tight enough to feel, but not enough to be the source of the static in his limbs—that would be the remainder of the drugs still in his system.

The vague reminder of how this kidnapping even came about does nothing but make his mood sour further, his glare deepening.

Today is Saturday, and Saturdays are date nights. Since it was Bucky's turn, he picked a new pizza joint that had recently opened. It had been getting good reviews online, and Tony had a thing for hole-in-the-wall restaurants, so Bucky was more than confident in his guaranteed success for the night—Tony would have a good time, they'd eat greasy pizza and enjoy a night out together. Not to mention that date-nights always ended with Bucky fucking a very enthusiastic Tony through the mattress.

They hadn't even made it to the pizza place.

Three blocks from the restaurant Bucky's instincts detected a shift, and he was instantly using his hand interlocked with Tony's to drag him between Bucky's body and the brick of the building behind them. His metal hand was on the gun at the back of his waistband even quicker, and his eyes systematically started to scan their surroundings. They hadn't gotten far; behind him, Tony's free hand came up to clench at Bucky's sleeve, "Buc-" he had started, only for his voice to cut off with a gasp of surprise. Bucky was already snapping his head in the direction that Tony had been facing, and his eyes narrowed on the lone figure just barely visible on one of the rooftops.

The hand on Bucky's sleeve fell away, and the fingers around his slipped through a heartbeat later, limp. Bucky had spun, his heart plummeting and arms instinctively coming up around Tony as he crumpled, eyes rolling back, two darts sticking out of the skin of his neck. Bucky's brain instantly paired it with the cause of Tony's surprised gasp a second earlier.

As Bucky caught Tony's unconscious and falling form, he felt four quick pinches on the skin of the back of his neck. He had gasped with the sudden onslaught of powerful anesthesia rolling out from the little needles and used a hand to desperately brush them off. There were footsteps closing in rapidly on their position, and Bucky would have to keep his focus to get the both of them home in one piece, especially with the addition of very, very potent drugs in his body.

After tucking Tony's form carefully on the ground, he had brought his gun up, instantly pivoting on his heel. His body melted into a proper stance and he had two targets down before the rest of them closed in.

Bucky shot another man and he went down hard, but Bucky hadn't waited to watch. As soon as the trigger had been pulled, Bucky turned, throwing all of his weight and strength into slamming the butt of the handgun into another soldier's face. Blood spurted up immediately, but the bit of gore didn't bother him—he had seen much worse in his time with Hydra.

A pair of hands had wrapped themselves around his free arm, but Bucky just turned his attention to the new enemy, disposing of him quickly and efficiently. In the small window of time that it took, another man had jumped on Bucky's back and jammed three new darts into his chest, the man's other arm wrapping around Bucky's neck. Yelling in both fury and frustration, Bucky had tried to rip the man from his shoulders, but it was more than a little difficult with the new wave of anesthesia. His limbs felt like TV static and the ringing in his ears started to phase out to something more mellow. Black had been rapidly forming around the outside of his vision, and the addition of the pressure on his windpipe only had made the darkness grow faster.

Up until then, the entire confrontation had lasted three minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Seventeen seconds later two black vans found themselves at the curb.

Forty-nine seconds later Bucky's knees ended up hitting the ground, his whole body lead and numb.

Within Fifty-eight seconds of the second wave of drugs, Bucky had been unconscious and laid out on the pavement next to Tony.

~~~~~

Bucky is standing before the door is even properly open.

A soldier enters with his gun drawn, trained right between Bucky's eyes, and if his attention hadn't been on the other people entering his cell, he would have scoffed. Like one man with a gun can stop me.

Two other soldiers followed the first, and between them was Tony. Bucky immediately caught his gaze, and the other man smiled brightly. There was a gash on his forehead and a bruise forming around his eye; Bucky had no doubts that if he gently looked, he would find other injuries on Tony's body.

Seeing Tony hurt made his fists clench where they were fastened together in their cuffs, and if the flinch in the soldier with the gun was anything to go by, his rage was noticeable.

Good.

Tony was let go of, and he turned around, waving at the soldiers as they backed out of the cell.

"Thanks for the walk back guys, I enjoyed our time together!" he called. Bucky huffed, but he couldn't deny the fondness in the noise any more than he could deny the way his mouth twitched upwards.

Tony turned to Bucky and his smile turned into something softer, something that was just for Bucky.

"Hey."

"C'mere," Bucky responded, reaching out with his hands and pulling Tony towards him. They sat, and Bucky immediately manhandled Tony into his lap, throwing his cuffed hands up and over Tony's head until they sat comfortably around his waist. Tony leaned back into Bucky's chest and hummed, one hand around one of Bucky's.

"You alright, sugar?" Bucky asked, his face pressed into Tony's neck.

"Mostly, yeah, they just roughed me up a little to get the other Avengers' attention. Hydra seems to want that officer we captured recently back badly."

"So we're the bait?"

"Guess so. Some sort of bargaining chip, or something else like it. I think they wanted to show that they were serious by throwing a few punches, and I don't think they're stupid enough to try and think that they can pull something like that on you."

Bucky's hands curled possessively into the fabric of Tony's shirt, mood darkening for a moment.

"They're already stupid as hell tryin' a' pull that shit with you."

Tony leaned his head back and pressed a fond kiss to the side of Bucky's neck, his grin a little wider at Bucky's Brooklyn accent popping through—it did that a lot when he was worried.

"I'm alright. Besides, with how much you were glaring at those guys to keel over and die, I don't think that we'll have to worry about anything like that for a little."

Bucky grumbled, but he relented; there was no use being too bent out of shape about it when it was all in the past.

"They cuffed you, huh?" Tony said, changing the topic, "I'm guessing they're at least reinforced with vibranium since you haven't broken them to bits yet."

"Unfortunately."

"At least they gave you a collar to match. Kinky."

"Very."

"Do we know what it does yet?"

Bucky grimaced.

"It shocks me if I try and take it off. I don't know the voltage, but it was enough to get me to quit it."

Tony's eyebrows creased in a frown.

"Guess we'll have to deal with that too."

"Right now you don't have to deal with anything. Why don't you try and get some sleep, huh, doll?"

"They didn't exactly beat me to a pulp, ice-pop. I'm alright."

"Yeah, well it's probably close to 'bout eleven at this point. Good thing about being locked up in an eight-by-eight square foot cell is that I don't have to worry 'bout you working 'till five in the morning fiddling around like you do."

"Excuse you, I don't fiddle," Tony cried, "I'm a scientist and a mechanic and-" Bucky was laughing and only half paying attention at this point. Whenever Bucky tried to insinuate that Tony was doing anything else with his time besides being an absolute genius, he always reacted with the same indignation. Bucky knew that he would go on and on about the value of workshop time, how he was working himself to the bone for the sake of humanity, thank you very much, and how he had lasted this far on caffeine and brilliancy, so what was a few hours missing here or there when it meant the world was a little bit safer?

"-and another thing, I do not-mpf!"

Bucky also knew that Tony is very easy to quiet with a kiss.

When Bucky pulled away, Tony tried his damndest to look put out, but the corner of his mouth kept twitching like it ached to draw itself into a smile.

"You kissing me to get me to shut up is wildly unfair."

"Maybe. But you love me anyways."

Tony rolled his eyes, keeping up the charade that they both knew was fake even as his body melted further into Bucky's embrace.

"Yeah. Lucky me."

~~~~~

From what Bucky can gather, it's been between seven and ten days since they were drugged and captured. Thankfully, he and Tony have mostly been left alone to their own devices.

Mostly didn't mean all the time though, and that was a lesson that Bucky was painfully aware of.

Right now he was alone—about two hours earlier soldiers had opened their cell and dragged Tony out with enough guns drawn to keep Bucky from doing anything rash. Tony had flashed Bucky a half-manic grin on his way out, but the sight hadn't made Bucky feel any better.

In the time that they had been here, Tony had been taken out three times, including today. The specifics of what Tony was facing outside of the cell was unknown to him because Tony refused to tell him, but Bucky didn't need to know the gruesome details to know that they had the gall to fucking torture him.

In a clinical sense, Bucky could understand. Hydra's primary target was to regain the possession of one of the head officers that the Avengers had recently tossed into prison, and they were trying to do that through a prisoner exchange with the two of them. However, it would be more than welcome to achieve their goal without losing their hostages, which was where Tony came in. Tony and Bucky would obviously have the clearance to know not only where the Hydra officer was being held, but probably information about the building, possible forces on base, and other valuable details.

Bucky had broken his conditioning ages ago, but that didn't mean that he still wasn't tough shit, and Hydra knew that personally. He could understand that torturing him not only would be a waste of time and energy—they wouldn't be able to get anything out of him even if they tried—but that it would put him in a very close proximity with weapons, and circumstances like those would turn out very, very bad for anyone even in the close vicinity.

Tony, meanwhile, may be notorious for not giving anyone the time of day in his long list of kidnappings (a list that made Bucky see red), but zero was still greater than a negative, so him giving them anything to work with had a much higher success rate, and therefore it made him the obvious choice.

Intellectually, Bucky knew all of this. Emotionally? Mentally? Bucky was close to shaking with rage every time Tony came back to him, more battered and bruised than when he had left. He had yet to return with a serious injury, and he wasn't showing any signs of reaching the end of his mental tether, but that didn't stop Bucky's brain from going a mile a minute.

He was worried and upset and furious at both himself and everyone that had even the smallest role in each and every one of Tony's bruises.

Bucky should have kept them from being captured, should have stopped them from taking Tony, should have protected him, should have done so much more. But that isn't the point right now—he can feel sorry for himself and make his excuses when they aren't being held captive.

So Bucky was alone, trying hard not to think about what Tony was going through alone and failing miserably.

~~~~~

Bucky was already standing when the door was wrenched open. He pushed his body into a defensive stance immediately at the sight of soldiers and guns, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Tony.

His lip was split and there was blood running down the side of his face from somewhere on his head. His torso and shoulders were curled in on themselves and towards the right, and Bucky's brain put forward the possibility of a rib or internal deep tissue injury. Meanwhile, his wrists had an alarmingly dark ring of bruises around them this time, and he was barely putting any weight on his left ankle.

God, Tony, what are they doing to you?

Bucky instantly dropped his stance and took a few steps forward, intent on bringing Tony into his arms, but he had only covered a foot or two of ground when there was a cackle of energy in his ear and then there was molten heat bursting behind his eyeballs, sizzling through his veins and making his lungs stutter, the oxygen he so desperately needed taunting him from where it stayed outside of his body and just out of reach.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Bucky heard Tony cry out for him.

Bucky gasped as his vision returned to him, and he was on the floor on his hands and knees, Tony crouching in front of him—when had he gotten there? His eyes drifted to the now-closed door of their cell. They were alone.

"Bucky? Hey, are you still with me? Terminator? Buck?"

Bucky nodded, panting, reaching out to put his palm on Tony's cheek.

"Alright?" Bucky managed, his voice croaky and too deep. He distantly registered the faint smell of burnt flesh.

Relief washed over Tony's face, and he gave Bucky a smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

His vocal cords felt raw and incapacitated, so Bucky just let his fingers prod Tony's head where Bucky wanted it until he caught sight of a gash along Tony's hairline. That's where all of the blood was coming from.

It didn't look deep at all, and Bucky knew well enough that head injuries bleed and bleed and bleed. Still, he lifted his shirt from where it covered his body to the side of Tony's head and slowly cleaned away the dripping blood falling from the wound. He ripped off a corner of it and handed it to Tony, demanding that he hold it to his head with both Bucky's eyes and a few rough words.

Afterwards, like every time Tony returned after spending time with the soldiers, Bucky systematically checked over all of his bones to make sure none of them were broken, cataloged new injuries, and did what he could to make Tony as comfortable as possible. This time that meant that he ripped off the hem of his shirt as well and wrapped it around Tony's ankle. It meant that he pressed feather-light kisses to the patches of purple and black and blue on Tony's skin. It meant that his heart ached, but Tony was smiling wide.

It makes Bucky so, so angry to see his genius hurt like this, but right now Bucky can't get them out of this no matter how much he wants to, and that knowledge hurts.

Bucky watched Tony's eyes flick over to the door for a second before a wave of determination overtook his features. He gently pushed Bucky to the corner of their cell, but Bucky was more than fine with following him wherever Tony wanted him. Making sure that Bucky's back was facing the door, Tony scooched himself in between the wall and Bucky's body, sitting right on his lap. He let his head fall onto Bucky's shoulder, but his hands drifted up to rest on Bucky's collarbones.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Tony said, "Now relax, you can lean on me, it's alright. I have work to do anyways." Tony pressed a small, thin object to the front of Bucky's chest. "Don't look, but I managed to swipe it from one of the tables before they were done with me. It's not the best tool I've ever used, but since I'm not exactly going to be disabling a bomb or anything I'm not too upset at the limit on finesse."

Bucky is just going to ask, sorry, what the hell Tony thought he was going to work on, but he felt fingers gently press at the collar on Bucky's neck, fiddling with the metal.

"I bet that I can disable the electric on this thing, or just snip some wires and call it a day."

"Yeah?" Bucky asked. His voice was coming back a little, but everything still felt raw.

"Yeah, so you just sit tight and look pretty, they won't be able to hurt you like this anymore," Tony muttered, and Bucky caught just the edge of a dark, possessive look on his face. It made Bucky's heart swell to have another reminder of how much Tony loved him, how much he was willing to do to stop Bucky from having to be in pain.

A moment later, Bucky's heart sunk in his chest. Tony was doing so much for him, and what had Bucky done besides hold him and kiss his wounds? How exactly had Bucky protected Tony?

Bucky rested his head on top of Tony's and listened to the sound of his breathing and the faint noise of Tony messing around with the wires and metal around his neck.

He would make it up to Tony. He had to.

~~~~~

Two days pass without much fanfare. They eat their meals, and Hydra doesn't bother trying to wrangle information that they aren't going to get out of Tony.

Bucky's collar was now completely disabled. Tony hadn't cut the power completely due to his fear that they were monitoring the electricity feed to make sure that Tony wasn't tampering with their tech. Instead, he had relocated several different parts and rearranged the wires to them, shocking himself more than enough times for Bucky's comfort. In the end though, Tony had been quite pleased with himself, and Bucky was once again marveled at the absolute stunning genius of his boyfriend.

Tony had explained it to him like a TV remote and the receptor in a cable box. The remote sent signals to the receptor, and those signals told the TV what to do. In this case, Tony had basically interrupted the circuit Bucky's collar and the "remote" were making by diverting the wiring to other parts of the collar. This effectively allowed it to still receive those "shock" signals, but prevented it from having the ability to read and therefore act upon those same signals.

And Tony had done it all with his hands and the equivalent of a goddamn paperclip.

Incredible.

~~~~~

Halfway through the fourth day, Bucky could tell that something was wrong. To what degree remained to be determined, but for now, he was on edge.

Ever since Tony had been dragged back to their cell, they had been left alone besides when they were given meals. Today's problem was that food came at strict eight hour intervals, and they were nearly up to hour eleven.

In Bucky's experience, it's when a carefully regulated system fails that things turn to shit.

The possibility of Hydra trying to starve information out of them was close to nonexistent. It was clear that their main function was to be hostages up for exchange of a valuable prisoner. Tony had been pried at and questioned, but it was mostly to see if they could squander up any loose ends and receive a bonus to their capture besides the return of their officer. Plus, Bucky had not only been conditioned to resist starvation for long amounts of time, but his juiced-up body was built to withstand food shortages, so attempting to get something out of him like this was incredibly inefficient and wouldn't work in the slightest. Tony hadn't been taken from the cell in several days, and there were no demands for them to fill.

So the lack of food wasn't because Hydra wanted something. And Bucky would bet his life that they wouldn't just forget about their two currently most valued prisoners, which meant that there was an outside influence at play.

On one hand, Bucky hoped that the wild card just so happened to be the Avengers. He had had enough of being locked up, and if Tony had got so much as another scratch Bucky might lose it. He wanted to get out, eat something very heavy in carbs with Tony, and then tuck them both away in bed for twelve hours.

On the other, Bucky fucking hated whatever the hell was wrong. He couldn't exactly prepare for anything if he didn't know what he was preparing for, and that feeling of hopelessness sat in his chest, pressed right up against his ribcage.

Tony's hand curled itself tighter in the strands of Bucky's hair, his fingernails dragging across Bucky's scalp. Bucky felt his body unconsciously relax just the tiniest bit to the touch.

"Relax, snowflake," Tony murmured, "everything will be alright."

You don't know that, Bucky thought desperately. All of his experiences were simmering at the front of his mind, and the anticipation of waiting for the other shoe to drop was almost killing him. He didn't just have to worry about himself, he had to worry about Tony, and that caused his heart to race.

Bucky forced himself to try and relax, pressing himself further into Tony's chest behind him.

Their backs were up against the corner, farthest away from the door—the only point of entry. The walls were too thick for Bucky to make a dent with a punch, so they were incredibly strong and provided ample protection. Tony was tucked away behind Bucky's body, as safe as he could be.

Everything will be alright.

Bucky hoped so, god did he hope so.

~~~~~

Forty-seven minutes later the door was wrenched open and nine armoured and heavily armed soldiers came streaming through the door. None of them approached Bucky or Tony, but it didn't matter—Bucky was already standing and ready to fight for Tony's life before the first guard had even taken one step inside the room.

"Stand down, Asset, I do not have the time for this."

The new man stands tall and with his shoulders pushed back, chin high. It is obvious that he far outranks the soldiers around them, and between his posture and how he strides in with a blase tone, he commands respect and compliance.

Too fucking bad Bucky won't give him either.

"His name is James, asshole," Tony says immediately, taking a half step out from behind Bucky's body—he had instantly pushed Tony behind him the moment he heard hands settle on the handle outside. Bucky's hand flew out to prevent Tony from moving any further out from the relative safety of the shield Bucky was providing, but that didn't stop Tony from craning his neck out to scowl better at their new enemy.

"The Asset doesn't have a name. Now, you will step out from behind the Asset, or you will have a bullet between your eyes. I will not bargain; do not try me, Stark."

"Yeah, sure, you can—"

Bucky nearly snapped his neck trying to put himself in the way of the gun that the officer had drawn and leveled right between Tony's eyes.

"Mr. Stark, I suggest you move or I will be forced to put a bullet in the Asset. I know how much he means to you. It would be tragic to see him in such pain, don't you think?"

"This isn't my first walk around the park. Everyone in this room knows that he and I are needed to have your little prisoner exchange. Shooting him would be like shooting your own goddamn balls," Tony snorted. Bucky didn't have to be looking at him to know that there was a mask on his face right now, each emotion and tone carefully constructed to show nothing of value. Bucky, however, was privy to all of the things that a normal person wouldn't be and he could hear the slight shake of Tony's voice—the possibility of Bucky being injured was stressing him out.

The officer in front of them smiled coldly.

"This has gone very far past the prisoner exchange, Mr. Stark, and Hydra has new priorities. The Asset will heal anything besides a fatal shot, and I'm more than capable of not hitting one of his major organs. Move, now, or he will suffer the consequences."

"Trust me," Tony murmured. He stepped out from behind Bucky, but Bucky's hand lashed out and grabbed onto his sleeve, milliseconds from dragging Tony back to safety when the cocking of a gun made Bucky freeze. The barrel was aimed unmistakably on Tony's frame.

"I am not a patient man."

Tony leveled Bucky with a look that said everything, and Bucky found the fabric of Tony's shirt slipping right through his fingers. Tony stepped away and as soon as he was within arms' reach, the officer forcefully grabbed Tony by the upper arm and pulled him close, pressing the gun right to the skin of his left temple.

"I can assure you that at this point Mr. Stark's value to me is nothing more than leverage to get you to do what I want. I will not hesitate to kill him if the method proves ineffective in its ability to control you. One of my soldiers will approach you and inject you multiple times. You will allow this or Mr. Stark will be terminated, do you understand, Asset?"

Bucky was still for a heartbeat, his eyes stuck on Tony's wide ones. Then he nodded.

"Correct answer."

Bucky was injected with three vials of an unidentified substance. They were tranquilizers of some sort, but they didn't make Bucky's head feel like cotton or make his limbs buzz like TV static, so they weren't the same chemical as what had been used on them to kidnap them in the first place. It was most likely either diluted or completely different altogether.

As soon as the soldier stepped away though, he turned right to Tony and produced another needle.

"He doesn't-" Bucky began, panic flaring up in his heart. The chemical make-up was unknown, and Bucky didn't have any way to tell what the hell they were about to inject his boyfriend with. Not to mention that, assuming Tony was getting the same thing as Bucky, one dose would be more than enough to hinder Tony's mental and physical processes if three were affecting Bucky so much already.

Wordlessly, the safety was clicked off, and both the sight and the sound sent Bucky's very soul falling through his ass.

Needless to say, he shut up very quickly.

Bucky watched as Tony was injected, his stomach twisting once the plunger was pushed down.

"Let's move."

The gun was kept at the side of Tony's head, and Bucky couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to the hand around it, the trigger finger a hair's breadth away from splattering Tony's brain against the wall. He let two soldiers roughly grab at his bound arms and haul him forward while a soldier walked forward to replace the officer and pulled out his pistol. He shoved it against the other side of Tony's head hard enough to make him wince, but Bucky didn't dare broadcast how much it made his hackles rise.

They were both marched out of the cell and into the hallway. Distantly, Bucky could make out the sounds of fighting, and he smiled. That would be the Avengers doing what they do best.

Bucky flicked his eyes to Tony to see if he had noticed as well only to frown deeply at the sight of Tony swaying a little on his feet, eyes lidded.

Tony's body had taken a beating during their capture, and combined with the limited food that they were given, it had made him weaker. After the drugs he had just been pumped with Bucky expected him to be at least a little woozy, but he wouldn't have expected him to be this effected so soon. Was the meal that they hadn't been given making him react this badly? Something else?

"Status?" The officer asked through a hand radio. The response was garbled, but Bucky's attention didn't tear itself away fast enough from Tony to catch it. The officer nodded and pocketed the radio.

"You two, in front," he said, motioning to two of the soldiers. As they moved, the officer glanced back at Tony. "If he can't keep up you can shoot him."

Bucky snarled, shoving the surprised hands off of his body and surging forward, ready to tear that motherfucker's throat out-

He hit the ground hard, his head thumping loudly against the floor. There were three soldiers on top of him, but that didn't stop Bucky from trying to throw them off. He couldn't though—the drugs in his body were already making his limbs hard to move and now there was a terrible fuzziness in his head from his unfortunate spill onto the floor.

Something hard and plastic jammed itself into his side and Bucky's whole body clenched as electricity surged through his core, radiating outward to make everything twitch and burn.

Bucky gasped as it was pulled away, and then he was being pulled upwards and onto his unsteady feet. There was a gun now shoved into his spine.

"Keep your outbursts to yourself, Asset, or I will kill him now," the officer snarled, "get moving."

Bucky was once again sandwiched between two soldiers, but this time the remaining four surrounded themselves around him. They all had at least some sort of weapon drawn, and Bucky couldn't help but notice that the ones with a gun in their hand had their trigger fingers clenching and unclenching around the gun, anxious. He wondered who was making them the most nervous right now—the Avengers or Bucky himself.

Tony was being marched in front of Bucky with about six feet of distance between them. He tried to make out how Tony was doing keeping up, but Bucky couldn't make out much through the soldiers in front of him.

"Move, damnit!" the soldier with his barrel up against Bucky's spine mumbled, driving Bucky's feet moving faster. He didn't blame the man—he would be close to shitting himself too if the Avengers were nearly to nipping at his heels and most likely furiously pissed off.

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the sound of their feet against the floor and their breaths. But then the officer's radio cracked back into life, and this time Bucky caught it.

The voice is several steps past panicked, and the sounds of violence bleed through the tiny speakers.

"They've breached the secondary levels there's……….can anyone hear……...the Avengers have gotten past the—"

The voice breaks out into a scream and a burst of gunfire only to be cut off and for static to take its place.

"Damnit!"

The radio is thrown against the wall and the officer snaps his fingers, gesturing to the soldier holding Tony.

"There's no time and we need a distraction. Get him on the floor and hold him down by his shoulders." His attention moved towards Bucky. "Put the Asset up against the wall and keep him there, all of us are dead men if any of you slip up. Do whatever you need to do to get it done, but for god's sake don't let him go."

Bucky's legs are reflexively backpedaling as the soldiers snap into motion. His back slams against the wall, but he only dimly registers it because his attention is so firmly on Tony. Tony is manhandled onto the ground and and held there roughly, the hands on his upper body visibly digging into his skin.

"What—" Tony gasped, squirming helplessly.

Bucky watched as the officer drops and straddles Tony's waist, using his weight to keep Tony from moving his torso. He gripped the sides of Tony's shirt and ripped, the worn and dirty fabric tearing and falling away to expose Tony's chest molted with bruises in several different shades of healing, and the arc reactor.

"What the fucking—hey! Get off of him! Get the fuck-" Bucky starts to yell, but a fist hitting his diaphragm pushes the air out of his lungs. He sucks in a breath back in greedily, and now Tony is yelling, panicked and trying to throw the two men holding him in place off, but he can't. His body is too weak from their imprisonment and the drugs are too strong, making his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

"Be happy that you're good for something, Stark. The Avengers will be too preoccupied with trying to save your life to stop me or the Asset." The officer said. Bucky started to scream, his whole body moving in an effort to get away from the soldiers, he had to help Tony, he had to, good god, Tony—

The officer's fingers curled around the edges of the arc reactor where it met its casing and started to twist, his face scrunching up into a grimace as he tried to find a good grip to twist it out of Tony's chest.

Tony's words of protest devolved into yells of pain, his head thumping back against the floor.

The officer was struggling, the arc reactor still locked into its casing. Meanwhile Tony had tears rolling down his face as the casing was pulled and jostled inside his chest.

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"

The knife sends a roar tearing through Bucky's throat and the surge of strength and determination and fury are nearly enough to pull away from the half a dozen soldiers pressing him into the wall, but these soldiers are fighting for their lives and their blind panic is enough to hold his drug-addled body long enough for one of them to shove another needle into Bucky's neck, the contents being violently pushing into Bucky's body. It's different from what he had just been given not that long ago—instead of a gradual buildup the leaden feeling slams through him fast enough to make him dizzy.

The soldiers use his lapse to throw him back into the wall and keep him there.

"Hurry up!" one of the soldiers bellows, "Or he's going to get his lights knocked the fuck out consequences be damned!"

The officer doesn't even seem to acknowledge the insolence. Instead he jams the blade of his knife between the arc reactor and it's casing and twists.

Tony screams, his whole body going breathlessly rigid and arching up against the hands and the body on top of him.

For a horrible, terrible moment, everything holds still, and the only variable is Bucky's threats slipping between English and Russian, his brain too hyped up on panic to stick with one language.

Then the arc reactor gives and it's popping out of the casing. The officer grins and grabs it. "One last golden egg," he mutters as he yanks out the cords connecting the reactor to Tony. Tony's voice cuts off instantly and he breathes in, the air passing through his lips sounding like a wheeze. His eyes bug out of his head and his body clenches one last time before the tension drops out of him and his body thumps against the ground. His eyes are open but they're glassy and unfocused.

"Tony? Tony! Tony please-"

The officer and the soldier stand, leaving Tony on the floor, motionless, fuck no please-

It takes all of them to pull Bucky away. He keeps screaming and thrashing, his body straining so hard against the hands and arms and fingers that hold him, but his vision is black at the edges and he can't feel his limbs from the drugs in his system. His body is compromised—he knows it. But that doesn't stop him from trying to break free, trying to get to Tony.

Tony baby please, fuck, please please please hang on I'm coming, I'm coming! Tony! Tony!

He loses sight of Tony, but Bucky can still see him, slumped up against the floor, mouth gasping and eyes fixed unseeingly on the ceiling.

Bucky's head is already counting the seconds; Tony can last five minutes and twenty-two seconds without the reactor before his chances reach critical, and even then he has about another minute until the first piece of shrapnel starts to bury itself into the wall of his right atrium. But Tony has less than seven minutes before he's dead, and thirty-seven of those seconds have already passed and Bucky's doing nothing, he hadn't stopped it and now he isn't even there with him.

After another twelve seconds of Bucky fruitlessly trying to slow their progress, he's pulled into the back of a vehicle and several soldiers follow his body's fall into the bed of the truck, holding him fast. The officer isn't there—he must be in the front of the truck somewhere.

Off to his right he hears a door slam open and then there is a familiar swish flying through the air before Steve's shield takes out two of the soldiers automatically, their bodies falling either unconscious or dead.

Before they even hit the ground, three gunshots are ringing out through the air faster than Bucky's heart in his chest and Bucky knows that the men going limp at his side are dead thanks to Natasha.

Bucky roars, grabbing onto the uniform of one of the soldiers and throwing him into the remaining ones standing. He hears bones crack and wants to stay and make sure that they all die, but there are more important things at steak.

Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds left.

He swings out of the bed of the truck and rips the driver's side door off, ignoring the gun that the officer is trying to pull. Bucky rips the arc reactor out of his hands and uses his metal fist to slam into the man's face, right where his eyes are drowning in terror.

This time when he hears the sickening snap of bones yielding under his strength he smiles. This man wanted to take Bucky and erase everything again; He wanted to bring back the Winter Soldier back from the dead.

Fine.

He might as well find out exactly what the Winter Soldier is capable of.

There's blood splattered across the dashboard and the seats, flowing onto the floor and following the cracks in the metal of Bucky's arm.

Arms wrap around Bucky's shoulders and pull him back, and even though Bucky knows that they belong to Steve, he fights for a moment, he needs to make them pay-

"Bucky! Stop! We need to get the reactor to Tony!"

Steve drops him just as fast as Bucky stills, his mind snapping back into focus. Tony needs him. Tony needs him.

Four minutes and seven seconds left.

There's so many drugs in his system from before that Bucky's nearly sick with it, but that doesn't matter right now. He takes off in a sprint, pushing his legs as fast as he can make them when they feel like jello, and then trying to take it up a notch further. His body is the peak of human perfection—it has to be good for something besides letting Tony down.

Bucky closes the distance in nineteen seconds.

Three minutes and forty-eight seconds.

Bucky skids to a stop and drops to his knees right next to Tony. On the other side of Tony's body—fuck, do not think of Tony like that, he's still alive —is Bruce, his fingers pressed up against Tony's pulse. Clint is almost right on top of them with his bow drawn, eyes murderous and fingers clenched around the arrow notched. His body is drawn in tight like he's hoping for some kind of threat to show up just to have something to work the anger out on. There's a part of Bucky that thinks of how close Tony and Clint are and knows that the man is nearly burning at the sight of Tony so close to death.

Wordlessly, Bucky hands over the arc reactor. Bruce's eyes are green around the edges.

Three minutes and thirty-nine seconds until death. Two minutes and thirty-nine seconds until his heart is breached.

Bruce flips over the reactor and starts grabbing at the wires sticking out of Tony's chest, and fuck, Bucky finally gets a good look at Tony and he nearly throws up.

Tony's skin is paler than Bucky's ever seen it, and when Bucky tries to push his sweat soaked hair out of his face he's clammy and cold to the touch. Heart in his throat, Bucky threads his finger's through Tony's limp ones and brings their hands up, resting his lips against the back of Tony's hand in what had meant to be a kiss but turned out to be more of a harsh exhale.

Two minutes and eleven seconds until the shrapnel hits.

"C'mon, c'mon sweetheart, hang on for me, alright? Almost there, why dontcha open your eyes for me, doll? Huh? Tony baby please open your eyes for me-" Bucky murmured, his voice cracking. But Tony's eyes didn't open. They were rolled back in their sockets, eyelids fluttering haphazardly.

His eyes snapped back to Bruce, who was just finishing up with the reactor. Bucky knew that everyone on their team had been given training by Tony himself on what to do to reconnect the reactor, but there was the irrational fear that something was going to go wrong clawing at Bucky's chest. He would have done it himself but his hands were shaking too bad to hold anything.

"Fuck!" Bruce snarled, carefully feeding his fingers into the gaping hole in Tony's chest to grab the last wire, his skin coming back bloody but whole; it was Tony's blood.

"The knife, he used a knife to get it out, I-I-" Bucky gasped, the memories clicking into place and cause and effect snapping together. The knife had caused damage, and judging by the new slickness of Bruce's fingers, a lot.

Steve's arm wraps around Bucky's chest, trying in vain to comfort.

One minute and fifty-seven seconds.

Bruce twists the last wire into place and Tony's body jumps as the arc reactor reconnects. Bucky's hand catches Tony's head before it hits the ground again.

The arc reactor flickers before it hits steady, and Bruce is once again pressing his fingers to the side of Tony's neck, one hand red and the other nearly green. His mouth moves as he counts and Bucky isn't breathing, isn't moving, what if the arc reactor had been damaged, what if Bucky's counting had been off, was he too late, was-

Bruce sighs in relief.

"He's fine, his heart is beating he's okay."

The tension breaks completely, Clint tipping his head back in gratitude, Natasha closing her eyes and letting her shoulders fall. Steve also lets himself deflate for a moment, the tenseness that he had been holding onto flowing out of his body.

Bucky's breath broke on a sob and he seemed to crumple in on himself, dropping shaky kisses onto Tony's hand over and over.

Bruce was the first to break the moment.

"We need to get him out of here and into medical immediately. Steve can you carry him? The rest of us will keep watch fine—I doubt Thor let anyone past him."

"I'll carry him," Bucky interrupted, already moving to slide his arms under Tony's unconscious frame. Steve's hands stopped him.

"You're in no condition to be carrying anybody, Buck. Let me take him, he'll be alright."

Bucky opened his mouth to protest but Natasha beat him to it.

"You've very obviously been drugged, you're bleeding and shaking, and you've been held captive for days now."

"Yeah, you can probably barely carry yourself, man. Tony'll be fine." Clint adds.

Before he can do anything Steve is gently scooping Tony up and Clint is helping Bucky stand.

They make their way back through the base, Clint and Natasha on a high enough alert that Bucky allows himself to relax a little. There's a weariness that goes deeper than his bones, so Bucky is quietly grateful to Bruce's frame tucked under his arm, quietly supporting him.

Thor is waiting by the quinjet, tasked with guarding it after he had disposed of all of the Hydra soldiers on base—apparently Bucky's screams had been loud enough that when the Avengers had heard them, they immediately put everything they could towards getting to Bucky and Tony, and that included letting Thor mop up.

The god's face darkened significantly when he saw the state that Tony and Bucky were in, and he moved to take Bucky from Bruce.

"'m fine, don't worry," Bucky mumbled, his words slurring a little.

"You are not fine, let me help you."

Thor didn't wait for an answer before easily taking most of Bucky's weight and helping him into the quinjet.

Thor sat him down on one of the cots and Bucky nearly folded right over once he wasn't on his feet anymore. With a big hand on Bucky's chest, Thor easily caught him and kept him from tumbling to the floor.

"Easy," he rumbled, "easy."

Bruce appeared before them in no time.

"He's going to be fine," he murmured, but Bucky didn't know if Bruce was talking about him or Tony. He wanted to ask, but his brain kept stuttering in his skull and he couldn't really feel his body too well. He was crashing from the drugs and the adrenaline.

Bruce slid an IV into Bucky's arm, and right before he drifted off he dimly heard Bruce task Thor with making sure that he was alright for the duration of the flight.

~~~~~

Bucky let his thumb glide over the soft skin of Tony's hand, grateful beyond words over the fact that it was no longer clammy and pale. Tony was in his hospital bed, sleeping. There were more than a few bandages across his body and several machines hooked up to him, but he had color in his cheeks and the heart monitor assured Bucky that everything was alright.

The hospital room door opened and Bucky didn't even have to look up to know that it was Janet, the nurse tasked with him and Tony.

"There's a perfectly good hospital bed right next to him that you could be laying on." She grumbled, unhooking Bucky's IV so she could attach a new bag.

"I know," Bucky said softly, "but I'm fine right here."

Janet huffed and swatted him on the arm. It didn't hurt in the slightest, but it did make Bucky smile. Janet was tiny and a step past middle aged—to see her unafraid to mockingly hit the Winter Soldier was both funny and endearing.

"I don't want to hear it. If I didn't have a million other things to do besides deal with stubborn superheroes I would have picked you up and put you in that bed myself." She checked over Tony's vitals and wrote a few things down on his clipboard. "We both know that as soon as he wakes up and sees you out of a bed it's going to be the end of the world, so if I find out that you weren't in a bed before then you're going to have me to deal with, understand? I don't need Iron Man trying to jump out of bed just to put his boyfriend in one."

Bucky's smile was wide enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes—he really loved Janet.

"Of course."

"You say that now but you're just going to sit here anyways," she mumbled, turning back to Bucky and putting her hands on her hips. "I need your hand, or you're going to have to deal with my fingers on your neck."

Bucky gently disentangled his flesh fingers from Tony's. He moved to replace them with his other ones, but a small hand on his metal bicep stopped him.

"Let go of him for a moment, alright? He's okay." This time her words were soft, and Bucky listened.

Janet took Bucky's wrist in her hand and turned it upward. She found his pulse and counted silently, her eyes on the clock on the wall.

Bucky had initially refused any sort of treatment. He had woken up in the hospital with Steve and Natasha in his room, hooked up to the normal assortment of machines that he promptly proceeded to nearly rip off of him as soon as he was half conscious. Part of the reason was that he had many, many bad experiences with waking up disoriented and attached to medical equipment in his years of living under Hydra's thumb. More importantly, his eyes hadn't even opened before the memory of Tony screaming as his arc reactor was torn out of his chest slammed into the front of his brain.

It had taken both Steve and Natasha to keep him on the bed, and Bucky's friendship with the both of them had been the only thing even remotely keeping him together.

"Where is he?" He had ground out.

Steve quickly gave him the run down—Tony was treated immediately and all things considered he was in pretty good shape. He had some extensive exterior and internal bruising across his body, a minorly sprained wrist and a hairline fracture in his eighth right rib. The only major injury he had regarded his arc reactor, but even then Steve had stressed that he was fine.

The doctors wouldn't be able to fix the damage to the reactor and the casing, but it was performing fine and keeping the shrapnel out of his heart which was the important thing. What the doctors could fix were the wounds along the interior of his thoracic cage. When the knife had been used to wrench the arc reactor out of the casing, part of the metal had bent and popped out of place at one of the seams. This had led to tearing along the inside of his thoracic cavity regarding his pectoral muscles. When designing the arc reactor casing after he had gotten back from Afghanistan, Tony had worked with several doctors to design a circular fake sternum. It would be attached to the casing inside of his chest, and the doctors would use it to anchor his ribs and chest muscles as if it was a real sternum. When the casing had been compromised, it had cracked the fake sternum, causing internal bleeding and tearing, which Tony had been admitted into surgery for.

The news of just how bad Tony had been injured nearly made Bucky lose it, but Steve had pressed him into the bed and forced Bucky to look at him as he said that Tony was fine.

"The surgery is done, all the doctors are doing is putting one of the backup casings Tony gave them into his chest, he'll be out of that room before the hour and then you can see him. He's okay, Bucky, he's going to be alright."

After Bucky had generally calmed down, they had tried to get Bucky back on the machines, but he kept refusing. Finally, Steve and Natasha gave up with the understanding that Bucky would stay on an IV and that he would be checked over as often as the nurses saw fit to make sure that the drugs were working their way out of his system. Bucky had only agreed because Tony had been exiting surgery, and he knew that if anything Natasha wouldn't let him out of the room until they had found some sort of compromise.

Which brought him to Tony's bedside and Janet appearing every hour to "make sure that he was still breathing" as she put it.

"You're fine," Janet said, letting Bucky's wrist go. Bucky watched her bustle around the room for a few moments. "You better be in bed when I come back in here, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am."

Grumbling about superheroes and stubbornness, Janet closed the door behind her, leaving Bucky alone with Tony once more. Bucky slipped his hand back through Tony's, dropping a kiss onto his knuckles.

"I'm right here, alright? Nothing is going to happen to you." Bucky's voice was a little shaky in the end, but he couldn't help it when Tony's unnaturally still body on the floor flashed across his eyelids whenever he blinked.

In a way, it was like a memory surfacing during his recovery period. What had happened was in the past, and there was nothing that Bucky could do to change it, but that didn't stop the guilt or the helplessness, the overwhelming feeling that he should have done something, that it was his fault why those people died, why Tony was hurt and aching.

I should have done something.

Bucky brushed his hand through Tony's hair.

"I'm right here, doll. Right here."

~~~~~

"What th' fuck 're you doin' outta bed?"

Bucky jumped, his head snapping up to find Tony sleepily glaring at him.

"You're awake! How are you feeling? Should I-"

Tony shook his head and frowned deeper.

"Wait," he mumbled and rubbed at his eyes. When he was done he squinted and then flopped back into bed hard enough to make Bucky's heart lurch—hadn't that hurt?

"I'm...sooo high."

"They had to give you something for the surgery, and I know they put you on painkillers."

Tony hummed and then fell quiet. Bucky stayed in his seat, unsure what to do.

"Do you… should I... "

"Stop that," Tony interrupted, turning onto his side and looking Bucky right in the eyes. Something in Bucky's chest loosened at the sight of Tony moving and talking, like a part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for someone to tell him that Tony really wasn't going to be okay.

"Stop what?"

"Bein' mad 't yours'lf. 'M fine."

Bucky chewed at his lip and for a minute everything was quiet. Tony pouted.

"If I wasn' high off m' ass I'd chew you 'ut f'r thinkin' this was your fault," he said, words a little more slurred than they were a moment ago, "But I'm on th' good drugs an' you kinda need to be in bed w'th me." Tony grabbed at Bucky's sleeve and scootched over so there was a Bucky sized space on the bed. "C'mere."

Bucky can't resist him on a good day, but now when he's sleepy and needy, a wrinkle between his eyebrows that Bucky wants nothing more than to smooth out? He doesn't stand a chance.

Bucky gently maneuvers them both so none of the medical equipment is sat or tugged on, and something in him melts when Tony immediately plasters himself to Bucky's front, his hands curled into his shirt instead of the blanket. He wraps an arm around Tony and buries his face into Tony's hair. He tries to relax his body, but there had been a vibrating tension under his skin ever since he had first woken up in the hospital. How had he let anyone hurt this man?

"Tell 'ur brain t' shut th' fuck up," Tony grumbled, twisting to try and get closer, "'m trying t' sleep. Not ev'n super soldiers c'n fight ev'ryone on 'nuff drugs t' stop a grizzly bear. Sleep, m'kay? Love you. Me too."

Tony gripped at Bucky's shirt tighter and tucked his head right under Bucky's chin so he could press his nose right up to Bucky's pulse. He immediately dropped off to sleep, boneless.

Bucky exhaled, forcing the tension from his limbs. Logically, he knew that Tony was right, and he knew that he was having such a hard time with it because of his time as the Winter Soldier. He still had trouble being helpless, but Tony was helping him learn that even ex-assassins had limits, and that it was okay.

Eyes closed and head against the pillow, Bucky traced mindless patterns over the bare skin of Tony's arm.

"Love you, doll," he murmured even though Tony couldn't hear him, "I love you too."

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serenzippity · 4 years

Text

The Scales

Words: 3658 Member/Pairing: Monsta X, Got7, Exo Genre: Alternative Universe, inspired by 6 Underground Warning(s): Language, mentions of drug use, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of death/killing, mentions of violence, implied smut

Chapter One - Sunrise

Specter Underground

Seoul, South Korea May 19th, 2019

Jae’s POV

“Are you ready Jae-baby?”

It was hard to not roll my eyes at the annoying nickname, but I kept my feelings in for the sake of our audience. One and I stood before the semi-circle of chairs, but this time I.M was anxiously perched in my former seat. The younger boy stared at the projector screen behind us in earnest, the disturbed look on his face permanently etched on his features from when we showed him our targets. The opposite wall in the expansive room seemed to put him on edge, but that was part of the job. He seemed to take the declarations from Lux and I a lot better than we were expecting.

“There will be four missions in total,” I said, ignoring One and beginning the briefing. “They will require all our strengths, meaning Seven you’ll often be on lookout and Lux you’ll be on medical standby.” The two of them nodded in agreement, Seven giving me a subtle wink before I turned to the man next to me. “One, would you like to start with the first mission?”

It was rare when One got truly serious, but he was all proud shoulders and authority as he addressed the room. “Mission Alpha will be a ground game. Lux, Jae, and Seven will remain here on coms. I.M, Kai, Wonho, and I will all infiltrate JYP Enterprise for an intel extraction.” I.M looked wide-eyed and scared when One said his name, but he didn’t say anything about his obvious internal fear. “We will be utilizing disguises and trackers, so make sure you get those worked out with Lux before we ship out.”

“Sweet,” Kai whispered to Seven, fist-bumping the sniper with an excited smirk on his face.

“I.M and I will go in as cleaning crew where we will be stationed on the lower, underground levels.” Clicking the remote, the screen lit up with an outline of the overall layout of the building. Special emphasis was placed on the hidden underground floors where I knew the JYPE secrets were kept. “He and I will extract the data we need from their mainframe on the fourth level. I’ve already begun working on the bug that will transmit all the JYPE data to our handy-dandy computer here.” One was pleased as he explained the mission, acting like a professional but the light behind his eyes reminded me of a kid in a candy store as he pointed to the fourth-floor diagram.

“Kai and Wonho will go in as security guards. Kai will act as a lookout in the lobby of the building while Wonho will remain in the security room. You,” One said gesturing to the man-made out of pure muscle, “will give coms full access to their camera system. We need to remain invisible for this to work.” Wonho nodded, not saying anything but he also began to shift with excitement. “Once we have access to their mainframe Jae-baby, Wonho, Seven and I will sort through the files to find what we need.”

“And what exactly will you be looking for?” Lux asked watching the screen behind us intently. One looked at me with a raised brow and gestured for me to answer with an unnecessary flourish of his hands.

Rolling my eyes, I clicked my respective remote to change the screen to a map of three different docks. “JYPE owns docks in three different ports; one in Busan, one in Pyeongtaek, and two in Icheon. We are looking for shipping information for all three docks, particularly dates where there is a blackout on the dock manifests.” Clicking the remote again, a close up shot of the Icheon dock took over the screen. “The Boss uses JYPE docks to bring in his shipments, so he will more than likely use the ones in Icheon to smuggle in his goods.”

“The Boss,” One said, turning his attention to I.M when the younger man began to raise his hand in question, “also known as Suho, is the leader of a Korean mafia syndicate known as Exo. He is financed by a scary, shadowy power figure.” He clicked his remote and a grainy, unclear image of the man in question popped up. “He is elusive, usually surrounded by bodyguards and his gang members. He is the worst of the worst and he trafficks anything under the sun, including little cuties like you.” I.M’s eyes went wide as Jackson stared him down.

“He murders, steals, and is one of our primary targets,” I said nonchalantly, continuing on as if I was telling the team what time it was. “It is likely that Suho will use the docks in Icheon to bring in his shipments. So, once we extract the data from JYPE we will look for any indication of when and where they will come in, as well as what they are so we have the necessary precautions on stand by.”

“Mission Alpha is a get in and get out type of plan,” One said, addressing the three men who will be joining him. “We get in, plant the bug, and get the hell out of dodge. All we need is information, no injuries or casualties.” I.M got paler at the mention of casualties.

“Standard rules apply?” Kai asked.

One nodded his head and began to click away to begin the brief on the next mission, but before he could begin speaking I.M’s small voice broke the silence. “What are the standard rules?”

Lux, in all her motherly glory, shifted in her seat and turned to him. She gave him a sad smile that looked out of place her pretty face, as a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder. She opened her mouth to begin speaking but was swiftly cut off by Kai.

“The rules are that if you get left behind, you stay behind.” He fixed the younger man with a hard gaze, but it fell immediately when Lux sharply turned around to give him a dark glare. Her hand never left I.M’s shoulder, but her body was radiating anger that was fixated on Kai. It was amusing to watch the usually fearless spy cower especially considering Lux wasn’t very imposing.

I.M started to visibly shake at that point, all of the color that was left in his cheeks was now fully drained. One, in all his child-like wonder, began to speak again, ignoring the frightened young man sitting in front of him.

“Once we have all the information we need, we will be quietly taking out the recruiters.” He clicked his remote to flip through the slides, coming to rest upon two pictures of very attractive models. “Jae-baby this is your mission so I’ll let you take the reins.”

I snapped my fingers in Kai’s general direction to pull him out from under Lux’s angry stare. The spy came to quickly, but his eyes still kept darting to the woman next to him. “Mission Beta is a standard infiltrate to remove targets.” The lingo went over almost everyone’s head except for Kai. He understood immediately what I said, nodding in understanding—it was a ‘get in, kill them, and get out undetected’ kind of mission.

“Our targets are Chae Hyungwon and Jacqueline Mendoza, also known as Jace Maddox,” I said gesturing to the beautiful people on the screen. Hyungwon was a model with ethereal features that were framed by luscious silver hair. Jace was a beautiful Hispanic woman with glowing skin and dark eyes that could pierce a soul. The glamour shots on the screen hid their dark-sides well. “They are both the primary recruiters for The Boss’s human trafficking business. They bring in the girls and get a cut when Suho sells them.” Flipping to the next slide there were two more pictures of the targets, but these showed paparazzi photos of them out on the town, both looking carefree. “Suho doesn’t protect them as heavily as his other lackeys, possibly because he sees them as disposable. They are rarely seen with any member of the syndicate and show no direct contacts besides their meetings with The Smuggler.”

“So, this should be easy?” Kai asked, leaning forward and staring at the pictures attentively. I could see his brain working at a million miles a minute, already forming a plan. His fast mind was what made him one of the best spies in the game.

“More or less,” I confirmed, giving him a smirk that spoke miles to anyone used to this lifestyle, “This should be like any other mission for us.”

“What is the color?” He asked, gnawing on his lip and suddenly looking slightly tense.

This spy lingo also seemed to go over everyone’s heads except for Seven who leaned forwards to mirror Kai. However, instead of looking at the images he was looking at me with a question behind his normally stoic façade. I made quick eye contact before turning to look at the two blown-up images of Hyungwon and Jace. “Red,” I breathed out, making sure I didn’t look at Seven as I said it.

In our world—the world of lies and deceit—Kai and I lived by a color-code. Our missions were defined by them. The colors indicated how far we were to go to complete the task. Green usually meant that there were tamer ways to get what we wanted. These missions usually were easier and required us to be inconspicuous. Yellow was where we had to infiltrate and if there were roadblocks in our way, we could use more unconventional means. These were a large portion of our prior work. However, red missions required us to complete the mission by any means necessary. This meant we could kill, cheat, and fuck until we are called back with success. Knowing the reputation of our two targets we would have to resort to our special training. It wasn’t something I was fond of, but it came with the territory.

I kept my eyes trained on the two pictures of the target because I didn’t want to see Kai or Seven’s reactions, but I could feel the eyes of the sniper burning a hole at the base of my neck. For a second I almost felt guilty. Since coming to Specter my humanity began to resurface, and it was a bitch to deal with at times.

“Moving on,” I hissed, pulling myself out of that headspace and clicking my remote to show a scan of an invitation. “Kai, Wonho, and I will be attending the annual Humanité Gala. Hyungwon and Jace are already on the guest list.”

“The irony,” One giggled.

“Kai and I will be going as dates. You will be posing as an up-and-coming businessman, while I will be his flavor of the month.” One and Wonho snickered at this but were shut up by Lux’s quick and harsh shush. “Wonho you will be our bodyguard and eyes on the ground.”

“Typical,” the muscular man murmured, which cracked a small smile on I.M’s face.

“Seven, you will be our eye in the sky during the Gala up behind the stage in the rafters,” I said, finally looking to the man on the edge of the semi-circle. He didn’t say anything but gave me a quick nod in acknowledgment. “Lux and One will be on coms while I.M will be our chauffeur to and from the venue.”

I.M perked up at his name, and One gave him a wink at his overt interest. “Don’t worry kid, I’ll let you choose which car you get to drive.” This seemed to excite the young daredevil and I couldn’t help my small smile.

“Kai and I will take out our targets in the venue by taking them back to their hotel rooms. After they are disposed, Kai and I will scale up to the roof where Seven and Wonho will rendezvous with us.” I clicked through to show various diagrams of the building, including where we would meet with the aforementioned sniper and jarhead. “From there we will make our way to the adjacent building, down their service entrance, and meet I.M on the ground. From that point on its extraction until we meet back here at headquarters.”

“A-and what happens in the hotel rooms?” Lux asked quietly, looking uncomfortable and anxious as she curled up in her seat.

I had to stop and clear my mind to answer her. I was planning on discussing that with Kai privately, but now that the question was out in the open I didn’t feel like I could deflect especially with Wonho, I.M, and One looking at me intently. Coughing awkwardly I looked at Lux and Kai, once more refusing to look at the sniper to my left. “I will take Hyungwon and Kai will take Jace. We will both work the targets to ensure they take us to their respective hotel rooms. From there..” I had to stop for a moment and push myself back into my deadly-spy persona. That version of me wouldn’t feel embarrassed talking about this. “Kai and I will subdue them. Hyungwon is notorious for what he puts up his nose, so I will make it look like they overdosed.”

Everyone kept staring at me with some semblance of shocked expressions. One’s eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. He had no input on the details of this mission, so this was his first time hearing my plan. Wonho looked impressed, I.M looked almost nauseous, Lux looked angry, and Kai looked pained. I still couldn’t make myself look at Seven.

Clearing my throat and tossing my hair over my shoulder, I clicked the remote to the next slide. “Moving on,” I said, quickly ending the tension building. “Operation Gamma is the next phase of all this.”

One stayed silent during my whole spiel, but I let him take over this one because this was his brain-child and the culmination of everything we had been working towards. “This is the mission that requires all of us. It’s what we are here to do,” he said, clicking to another diagram of the JYPE ports. “This is the mission where we intercept the shipment and take out Suho’s Smuggler.”

One clicked to show a grainy picture of a young man with black hair. He looked like he had multiple piercings on his face and ears, but the quality was poor. However, his creepy smile still showed free and clear through the noise. “This is Byun Baekhyun and he is Suho’s right hand. Killing him will draw Suho out and will give us an opportunity to strike. With Baekhyun dead, Suho will retreat to his generals and call a meeting at his home in Busan.” One showed an aerial image of a compound, but before any of us could question it he continued on. “Jae, Kai, Wonho, and I will all be on the ground, hidden and ready to strike should we need to. I.M and Lux will be on coms and Seven will be our eye in the sky. Should you see an opportunity to take a shot, take it. I don’t care where the bullet comes from as long as he drops dead.”

“Standard rules?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” One nodded. “From there we will rendezvous back here, but we can’t create finite plans until we complete Mission Alpha.”

“That’s very vague and not stressful at all,” Seven growled, looking at his brother with clear annoyance.

One simply shrugged and pouted at his elder, “What can you do?”

“After we complete Gamma it’s a free-for-all,” I said, interrupting the two siblings. “Mission Spring Cleaning is where we separate to take out the rest of the syndicate.” Clicking over, I stopped at a page that had four images on it, with Suho sitting in the upper corner. Two of the images had grainy pictures of other targets, but one of them was simply a black and white silhouette. “One will undergo a solo mission to find and take out Suho. Don’t ask him about his plans he won’t tell,” I told them exasperatedly, looking at One’s gleeful face with an eye roll.

“Yup,” One chirped with a pleased smile. “Jae-baby here will be going after Suho’s financier, who shall be kept anonymous until her mission is done.” Everyone looked confused at this, but One continued before any questions could be asked. He exceptionally was good at cutting people off. “Wonho will be taking out Suho’s rabid-dog, affectionately name Psychopath,” he said pointing to an image of a blonde-haired man. “And the final target, Suho’s mad-doctor Yara Valaskova, is up for grabs for whoever wants to blow her brains out.” One said it so casually, and I thought I.M was about to throw up. “But we can cross that bridge when it comes to it.”

“Any questions,” I asked, facing the room and opening up the floor. No one moved, which wasn’t a shock considering how desensitized all of us, except for I.M, were to death and killing at this point. The young man in question still looked off-put, but he slowly raised a shaky hand into the hair. “I.M?” I said in acknowledgment.

“When do we start?” His question came out softly and it was definitely not what I was expecting. Based on the look on his face I was expecting a more fearful plead, but he surprised me and I couldn’t help the wide smile that broke over my face.

I liked this kid.

One just giggled at his question and began to rock back and forth like an idiot. He looked like a child who got a cookie out of the cookie jar after being told no—so mischievous and mocking all at once. His smile was so big that it touched his eyes, and I could immediately tell that we were in for some of his obnoxious theatrics.

“We start when you die my little spider monkey,” One giggled, causing I.M to almost fall out of his chair in fear.

Rolling my eyes, I took this as my cue to leave and end the meeting. “Go get some sleep everyone,” I sighed, stepping away from the projector screen and away from One and Wonho as they hauled I.M to his feet and dragged him to One’s office. Lux quickly stood up and left, no doubt going to her lab. Kai watched her go with a sad look in his eyes but remained seated. When she was gone he stared at the ground like it was the most interesting thing in the world. I observed him with pity from beyond the semi-circle, but I was quickly distracted by the feeling of two large hands on my hips.

“Red huh?” the dark voice whispered in my ear, sending goosebumps up and down my spine at the deep tone that was laced with lust. Teeth latched onto the sensitive skin where my neck met my jaw and I could feel myself melt into the familiar body behind me.

“You promised you would stop getting jealous,” I said, muffling a whine as Seven grazed my throat with sharp nips and wet kisses.

He placed a particularly hard bite on the juncture of my throat which had me grasping the hands on my hips like an anchor. He brought me flush against him and I could feel his growing hardness behind me as he took control and ground my hips into his. “You like me jealous,” He whispered harshly into my ear before dragging me away from the common room and the sad male spy.

At first it was awkward moaning out a number as I came over and over again against Seven’s tongue, fingers, and dick. I didn’t know the real name of my lover and that kept me at bay for a little while. However, in the year since I joined Specter, he became my favorite pastime. Soon, knowing his real name became insignificant so long as I could walk away from his bed deliciously sore and spent.

Seven is a killer and he’s one of the best. He did two tours with the Marines and he came back with a Iot of cash, a name for himself, and a lot of medals. But somewhere in those deserts he lost his soul. He’s always trying to fuck the war out of himself while fucking me.

I have orgasms and he has war-gasms.

It works out for us both in the end. When I am shaking I forget about dark, brown eyes and my urge to take revenge. I forget about stuffing white powder up my nose or plunging a knife into tender flesh. I forget about the screams of help that I ignored for a warm body and beautiful lies.

He pulled me down a dark hallway and into one of the various bedrooms in the compound. This one was unoccupied, but for the night it would be our escape. We were a mess of tongues, limbs, and moans as we fell on the bed together. In the darkness I couldn’t see a damn thing, but Seven was as clear as a sunny day. Clothes were ripped off and hands were wandering and grabbing at heated skin. My pants were lost somewhere in the room and I was pushed onto my back with the tattered remains of my t-shirt lying around me. Seven was as equally torn to shreds as we became one with choked gasps. I could feel the energy vibrating off of him—waves of lust, jealousy, and anger wrapped me around him as I saw stars behind my eyes.

At this very moment I wanted to forget everything that wasn’t Seven and the way he danced across my flesh. Everything, except for him, was insignificant for a few hours. Once the sun rose we would go back to our anointed roles and personas, but for tonight we were just two lost souls who needed something to keep us from floating away.

Song: Revolution - The Score

It’s been a minute y’all. On that note, I have a lot of time to read and write at the moment, so I finally finished this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, especially considering it’s been a while since I posted anything.

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